The Good Life
by skiptothegoodbit
Summary: For four former women's wrestlers, it's been hard to adapt to a relaxed lifestyle in Avidian Lane. In a new world where it's all about keeping up appearances, the ladies can only wonder how long it is until their dangerous secrets unravel...
1. An Introduction

**The Good Life**

_AN._ Hola! Brand new story for you guys – it's based off of Desperate Housewives (which I've come to love recently) + the idea of this was something I just couldn't leave alone. Enjoy! :)

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_Chapter One - An Introduction_

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If there was one thing Maryse Ouellet excelled at in life, it was criticizing others—especially those less fortunate—and their poor decisions.

The striking blonde woman was a flurry of long, curled hair and perfectly manicured nails, asserting her strong opinion with a look of distaste left and right; there was no-one who would dare to cross the path of the determined housewife. Not even her husband, who after much pleading and begging was unable to persuade his spouse to change her last name when they were married.

She was proud of each and every decision she'd made in her life, and would be hard-pressed to admit otherwise.

Sitting in her living room now, perched neatly in the middle of her white pristine sofa, with others rushing around with jobs to do in order to keep her happy, she looked like nothing less than a grand Queen.

And why shouldn't she? She was Maryse Ouellet, a former Diva's champion and women's wrestler for the world wrestling entertainment company. She and her husband were famous everywhere, mostly known for their role as the top power couple on Monday Night Raw. She had it all.

And she also had an image to uphold.

"Celeste, I don't like the flower arrangement. It looks too..." Trailing off, she cocked her head away from her panicked-looking assistant and towards the vases sat in front of her on the table. "Dull." And if there was one thing she was not, it was that. "Come up with a new design. It's like you don't want my big day to be a success."

"Of course. Right away."

As the young redhead scurried away, Maryse quietly clicked her tongue in irritation. She was too nice of a person—Celeste was average at best, but still she was paid as though she was worth much more. Her kindness of heart really was something else.

Her patience was drawn thin, however, and it took a lot of self-control to keep her composure intact and not snap at the next sight her eyes rested on. To his credit, Ricardo was an excellent designer and one of her favourites, but today was simply not his day. What she was staring at could only be described as a monstrosity.

"Ricardo, darling," she purred, careful to monitor her tone, "My breasts are going to need to breathe. How will they be able to in that?"

He was on the verge of giving her an answer, only to be saved by the bell with a familiar entrance alongside him. She saw the dreaded black converse shoes first, and then travelled upwards to meet the playful grin of her fifteen year-old daughter. Of course it was her; she wouldn't allow anybody else to step into her house wearing _those._

"I don't think your breasts 'breathe' in anything you wear, Mom." Her tone was far too chirpy—it always was. "I mean, look at them now—well hello there, great big melons stuck to your chest. Any chance of spilling out today?"

Ricardo's response was to snicker—a very bad decision on his part—until she glared at him, resisting the urge to glance down her dress and see if they really were making an appearance, and then smiled thinly at the young girl beside him. "Always a pleasure talking to you, Emily. You look... beautiful, as always."

Flicking back her own blonde hair, the teenager glanced down at her attire—the look she gave her mother upon returning her gaze was one of surprise. "You should really work on your pauses, you know that? Even your _exquisite _French accent can't hide the disgust radiating from you."

A light sigh spilled through the adult's lips and for the rarest moment, she shrugged her shoulders in defeat. "I just don't know where I went wrong with you. When you were born, I thought you'd be a mini-version of me—"

"—A Barbie Doll with extensions and fake nails?"

"_And_ that you'd be just as stylish as me. I was so happy to have a girl. Now... you're dressed as an indie person."

"Mom, you don't have to whisper the word 'indie' – it's not dangerous. And trust you to mix up styles you couldn't care less about. I don't suppose you've noticed the pink I'm wearing today."

It took a while to spot the effort. "Honey, I wanted you to wear a lot more pink than that. The rest of that top you're wearing is covered in black and white words I can't even make out. You look like you've been painted on."

"And once again, you _sound_ like you've got a stick up your ass." Emily rolled her eyes playfully, a gesture she knew was almost forbidden in her household, and walked around the chaotic mess surrounding them to place a kiss on the Queen Bee's cheek. "You should count yourself lucky that I'm going to be wearing a pink dress at your sham of a wedding; it's the only time I'll ever bend the rules."

"Of what, acting like you're a boy trapped in a girl's body?"

"Okay, whatever. I'll see you later. I'm off to the mall—apparently they're holding auditions for a part as an extra in a music video or something. I'm going to check it out."

"Yes, Logan said something about that." Maryse just about caught the bored look on her daughter's face before she left the room and then, after a moment's consideration, shouted after her, "And the wedding isn't a sham! It's a second celebration to remind ourselves of your father and I's love for one another!"

"Headphones are in, I'm already blocking you out!" Emily shouted back. "But have fun with all the boring crap, okay? See you tonight!"

The door slamming shut just a few seconds later provided the troubled mother with a lot of reassurance. She loved her child with all of her heart, but she could be a pain in the ass sometimes; and having thought of this once again, she slid a subtle smile into her daily expressions. She and her daughter were more alike than the other thought—no matter how much it wanted to be denied.

It didn't take long to move right back into business mode. Brushing off imaginary bits of dirt from her yellow summer dress, she looked back at the design – which Ricardo was still holding up with remarkable patience – and inhaled deeply. "First things first: sort out the bust. We can talk more after that. It _has_ to be perfect."

He nodded obediently, hurrying away, and her narrowed eyes watched him until he disappeared out of sight. For a moment or two, she sat there quietly; there was something utterly relaxing about being in charge of her household and planning what to do with her day. Everything was done her way – just how she both wanted and needed things to be.

There was no doubt in her mind that she was Queen of the DiBiase household.

As for what was happening around her... well, unlike her close-minded daughter, she was proud of the event she'd created for herself. And for her husband, _of course._ This was all that she needed to feel good about herself again after the rough couple of months she'd had wondering what she was worth. There were certain... _aspects_ of her relaxed lifestyle that began to put her on edge, causing her to question everything she already had.

... But that was in the past, wasn't it?

With a fresh look on her face, she stood up from her seat, making sure to smooth out the fabric she'd been sitting on. Everything had to be in its proper place. There was a confident strut to her walk as she moved around the room, hands on hips, and critiqued the decisions being made—from the cake decorations laid out to the wedding shoes selection, nothing was left without an opinion.

She allowed another rare smile to curve her lips upwards. Yes, today was shaping up to be a good day—Maryse Ouellet was, as her group of select friends liked to call her, the _head bitch in charge _and that status was going to be far from unnoticed this Saturday morning.

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"Okay, so what's next on the list?"

Over the hustle and bustle of the local supermarket, a fifteen-year old boy's bored tone rang out. "I don't know, maybe salad? You put all kinds of healthy crap on here."

Wheeling the already heavy trolley around the corner and into the next aisle, struggling with difficulty to keep her own balance afloat, Eve Torres bit down on her bottom lip to avoid giving her son yet another deathly glare. The woman was already having trouble keeping her mood light over a simple shopping trip, and she didn't think she needed to showcase her skills as a mother by swearing profusely at a young child in a public place.

Stopping at an early point, she was finally able to rest her sore hands, and used one of them to wipe her wavy brunette hair out of her eyes. It had been bothering her almost the whole shopping trip and yet she hadn't been able to do anything about it—and yes, asking the boy beside her to do something would simply be _lame._

"You're just always so helpful, Logan." She smiled tightly, turning to him. It was just a few seconds later that she was forced to roll her eyes. Did he always have to insist on listening to his iPod on these visits? When she wasn't trying to get his attention away from his loud music, she was trying to make herself heard over it. "Do you think you could get a couple of cans over there for me?"

Tapped on the shoulder to gain his mother's attention, Logan Torres gave a loud groan. Removing his headphones once again, he shrugged at her. "What?"

"Cans. Over there. _Now._"

It really was hard being a single parent sometimes. As she cleverly nipped his iPod away from him, listening to the endless complaints and groans from him before he finally walked away, she found herself thinking that everybody else had a much easier life than her. It was a regular thought that always entered her mind at a bad time—which happened every single day—and she just knew she would think the same thing tomorrow, whatever happened.

She turned away for a moment – towards the checkouts behind her – and stared at the other people milling around. They were all doing their grocery shopping, happily immersed in their own lives. She imagined they were being lived wonderfully.

The Latina woman sighed. It wasn't that she disliked her life... she'd just expected _so_ much more for it. She was a former Diva's champion for world wrestling entertainment. Going out there almost every night, holding up either a championship or her hands, she was proud to call herself a women's wrestler.

And now...

"Found them. Can we go now? I don't even know why you forced me to come anyway – I could be at the mall or something."

Back to the duty at hand, she smiled delicately at her son. The look he gave her in return suggested he was weirded out at the very least. "You'd like to be at the mall, huh? I hear Emily DiBiase is going to be there today with her friends." A loud groan greeted her. Unsurprising, considering. "What, you don't think I'd ever let the issue of you two drop, do you?"

"Can I have my iPod back now please?"

"It's okay, you're in love with her. I understand. You don't have to tell me twice."

"I didn't tell you _at all._ By the way, this is why Dad is the cool parent." He almost spat at her, flicking his shaggy dark hair back.

"You also get that _holier-than-thou_ attitude from him, by the way. Would it kill you to give me credit just for once?"

"For what exactly?" Logan dug his hands deep inside the pockets of his hoodie. "Dad's the wrestler of the family. You gave it up to live this boring life. All you ever do is shop or meet up with the other moms for gossip sessions. What do I have to credit you for?"

The former Diva shook her head. The strength she showed in this particular debate was remarkable, considering she went through it at least twice a week with the same outcome every time. "For being able to put up with a mini-version of your father like you. Now, _please_ check what's next on the list and go and get it for me. I don't have long until my Jiu-Jitsu class."

All she was greeted with was a glare.

"You know what? Fine, act like a spoilt brat all you like. _I'll_ go and get whatever it is we need. Forgive me," she raised her voice as she walked away, leading him to hide into himself in embarrassment to those around him, "for trying to provide for my family!"

Miss Torres often liked to people-watch when she went for the weekly shop – sometimes with Logan; depending on his mood, sometimes _without_ – and wonder what their lives were like. Were they all as happy as they appeared to be on the outside? Were they just pretending? Or were they not pretending at all, and _she_ was the one who didn't have the slightest clue? Sometimes she even wondered if it was only her who effortlessly looked like she was struggling her way through it all.

Stomping her way around now though, completely undignified for a woman of her stature, Eve didn't care about anybody else but herself. She wanted to get away from this damn place, pack away all the groceries—because _God knows_, Logan would only sulk off to his room or bound out of the house—and get on with her class. She had a lot to take out on her trainer today, that was definitely for sure.

"I put my faith into absolutely everything and what do I get for it? Nothing!" She muttered incredulously to herself, rounding the corner and heading straight for the frozen vegetables. "Sometimes I just wish... _just wish_ something good could happen to me. Do you think it'll happen? No, of course it—"

Unfortunately for the frustrated housewife, she was to be caught off-guard when she took her eyes off of the food products to look where she was going, only to find herself about to storm into an open shirt-clad chest. All she could really do was blink and prepare herself for the car crash, but a steady hand reached out and firmly took her arm, stopping her from making such a mistake.

Remembering her position, Eve attempted to look nonchalant about the matter as she stepped back to view her saviour—it _wasn't_ an easy thing to do when her cheeks were flaming hot, and she still felt like an idiot.

A young guy stared back at her, appraising her with his eyes. She didn't quite know how to feel about that – more to the point, she was highly aware of the contact they still shared. "So... you're fancy, huh?"

There was something about his tone that she just didn't like. The smirk he wore to match it didn't do him any favours either, though if perhaps she was in a better mood, she would have found it charming. So she slipped out of his grip easily and glanced down at her attire; wearing her favourite purple dress, her knee-high black boots and beautiful accessories, _fancy_ was the least she expected to be called. Although looking at him... "So you're not, huh?" She teased, only without the humour intended.

"Ouch." He rubbed a hand over his chin, checking her out once again. "I reeled in a good one today. Save a woman from a little trouble and I get no gratitude in return?"

He left her inclined to give an answer. And while usually she would be happy to thank someone who helped her out, she was just _not_ in the mood. "A little trouble? Don't flatter yourself, smart-ass. Now if you'll excuse me..."

The brunette was surprised to find he let her pass by without any further problems. But upon returning with the food she needed, arms full and certainly wanting to find her trolley again, he re-appeared. "Oh God, what do you want?"

"I'm new in town – I just moved here with an old college friend. I was wondering if we could hang out at some point. I need to get to know—"

"I don't think so." She pushed past him and walked on. She didn't turn back once. "I doubt I'll ever be seeing you again. I'm sure we're from different parts of town..." And with that said, she disappeared.

Eve didn't hear the last of their conversation in which he picked up his cocky smirk and said to no-one in particular, "I'm Alex... Alex Riley, by the way. Nice meeting you," very sarcastically.

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So there's the first ever chapter. We're just getting started. Please review :)

_- In the next chapter: The sweetest housewife of them all arrives back from her honeymoon with surprising news._


	2. Honeymoon Period

**The Good Life**

_AN._ Thank you so much to **xsostarstruck, xHalosandwings, brokendreams3, Cena-Wilson-Crazy, VanityMayhem, LayChellexRhodes, rory21, xTwistedxImperfectionx, Happy Smiler **_&_ **keepthefaithx **for reviewing the first chapter.

I'm really excited to continue with this and get more of your opinions :)

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_Chapter Two – Honeymoon Period_

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Layla El Regal woke to a quiet house. She always did.

Keeping to her daily routine, the British woman pulled the covers back neatly, gingerly pressed her feet against the floor and stood to her full height. She inhaled deeply as she stared out of the open window that faced her and took in the familiar sights of the neighbouring households. Then she closed the gap – not to cut off the lovely breeze brushing against her skin, but to strengthen her belief that suicide by jumping was not the answer.

A polite knock at the door interrupted her grouchy moment and she padded over to open up to her personal house maid. "It's only me," Elissa's distinctive Spanish accent rang throughout the home, "Are you ready for me to clean in here?"

"Yes, go ahead," she answered, grabbing the black silky robe from the bottom of her bed. Covering her body with it, she wasn't ashamed to realize she'd been seen in sexy lingerie by someone other than her husband. "I'm going to shower now anyway."

Closing the door behind her in the en-suite bathroom, she gave herself the chance to relax. She turned the gold dials of the deluxe shower to the left and wiggled her fingers underneath the spouting water until it finally warmed.

A throwaway glance in the grand mirror after she'd stripped naked told her everything she needed to know; it was no longer possible to hide her unhappiness – well, not in the company of those who she wasn't married to. Behind rich, dark hair and beautiful facial features, the former Diva was fading.

... But fading to what exactly?

Unintentionally, she began to play around with the wedding band on her finger, twisting it loose back and forth; this was something she always did when thinking of things that upset her. Looking into her reflection again, she attempted a smile—it almost fooled her.

After a soothing shower, she changed into her gym clothes and pulled her glossy hair back into a tight bun. Today would be well spent in her personal training room, a place where she liked to escape every day crisis's and become more attuned to herself.

"Elissa, I want the bed pressed _properly_ this time." She ordered just before she stepped into the hallway. "William complained about it last night."

"Yes, ma'am."

Her eyes lingered on his side of the bed for a moment, taking in the already neat sight. It looked like it hadn't even been slept in. Walking down to the kitchen, she surprised herself with the thought that she'd rather it was that way. Lying next to him last night—after mediocre-at-best sex—she'd grown uncomfortable. All she felt after the nightly routine was used and that wasn't right, was it?

She soon wished the horrible thought away, picking the freshest-looking apple out of the fruit bowl on the counter. It was tossed in the air a couple of times as she leaned against the sink to stare out of the window; something intriguing had caught her eye and being the gossip Queen she was, this wasn't going to slide out of her grip easily.

Almost perfectly diagonally to her own house sat a huge, white moving van. An eyebrow was raised as she tried to peer around it – as if by adjusting her angle she could see more than the large vehicle allowed. No such luck.

Layla knew she shouldn't have been amazed to find new inhabitants on Avidian Lane. The 'sold' sign that had been planted on the lawn months ago was finally taken down yesterday morning, and that alone gave a warning sign that new company would be arriving soon. But it still struck a chord and she was stuck in that position for quite a while, forgetting her duties to hopefully grab a scoop of new gossip.

The sudden ring of the cordless telephone inches away was the only thing to disrupt her plan. Reaching near to the wall, though still keeping her eyes glued to the van, she answered with a reserved and polite, "Hello?"

"_Lay, you have to get over here right away." _A thick French accent greeted her. Maryse. _"I know Sunday morning is your time to work out but this is far more important."_

"More important than spying on the moving van parked outside of my house? I think I've seen one guy unloading boxes but I'm sure there's another one somewhere."

"_And we can talk about that later... unless you want to miss Tiffany's return? Eve's taken Logan to see his Dad for the day so it'll just be me otherwise..."_

"Tiff's back?" She tried not to give away too much excitement in her tone but was instantly aware of how much she failed to do so. "Is that today?"

"_Yes it is – and she will be back in about ten minutes. Come over to mine and we can go to see her together."_

"Sure. I'll see you soon."

Hanging up, the British-born housewife bit down on her bottom lip. It would take only a minute or so to walk to the DiBiase household. Would it hurt to go over and say hello to her new neighbours and introduce herself? She did have some time to waste after all.

She put the apple back in its place with a graceful twist of the wrist and then walked out of the door, making sure to smile when she stepped into the lovely sunshine. Layla was bold in the way she made her arrival and surprised the guy she'd seen earlier with a handshake from the moment he turned around to head back to the van. "Hi, I'm Layla." She introduced herself. She wore the perfect smile. "I live right across the street. Welcome to Avidian Lane."

"Uh, thanks." He shrugged nonchalantly. Her own smiled dropped, if only for a moment before he gave his name. "Oh right, sorry – I'm not really with it today. I'm Alex Riley and – obviously – I just moved here today. Mike's somewhere in the house and there's a third guy coming tomorrow, but he's only staying here temporarily until he finds his own place."

"Well it's nice to meet you. I just wanted to come and say hello quickly." The short woman nodded. "I'm going to see a friend now but maybe I'll see you around sometime—and Mike too?"

"Yeah, of course. That would be great."

His smile was cute. Mr. Alex Riley wasn't exactly her type from what she was basing him on so far, but at least he would be something to look at whenever she needed to be entertained. God knows she didn't get that at home.

She left him with a lingering smile and made the short journey to Maryse's home, which was only two buildings away from her own. The blonde was sitting on the porch swing with her head down, two fingers pressed against her temple; she didn't appear to notice her friend approaching.

Layla heard the faint sound of _Kings of Leon_ from inside—the most likely case being that it was coming from the music studio—and instantly smiled. "I trust that Ted's in work-out mode too."

"Hmm." Lifting her head, Maryse straightened out quickly, as if trying to pull off the act that she'd known Layla was there all along. "He likes to listen to them. _A lot._ I'm just happy Emily doesn't go around blasting her music inside of the house. She's got her iPod for that... just her and her own little world. Must be nice."

"I guess so." The dark-headed housewife nodded, unable to respond in any other way. Sometimes little things were said... _such little _things that simply made her wonder. Pushing herself back into business mode, she continued. "So how's the wedding planning going?" She asked, aware that this would be all it would take to set off a long conversation.

She was right. Maryse Ouellet was simply full of life as she crossed one leg over the other, patting down her beautiful red dress, and told her countless things about the upcoming event.

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From the moment she saw Layla and Maryse, Tiffany McIntyre couldn't help but to give a wide grin. Even when the car pulled into a familiar driveway, showcasing the house she'd grown to miss while on her two-week vacation, her eyes kept flickering into the mirrors to find the two women rushing over to her. She'd missed them and Eve so much—talking on the phone just _wasn't_ the same—and she was very pleased that she could hardly get out of the car before she was engulfed in a welcome-back hug from both.

A sweet giggle spilled through her lips at the warm response, only to be caught in her breath when she noticed the looks on their faces. Right, of course. She glanced down at the cast on her right wrist, feeling a twinge of something, and then back at them. Behind her, she heard the other car door being slammed shut.

"Ladies, it's nice to see you again." A clear Scottish accent spoke out to the housewives and they were distracted for just long enough to smile. Drew collected their suitcases from the trunk of the car and chastely kissed his new bride on the cheek. "I'm afraid I can't stop. I've got a meeting with Vince to get to. You know him, hardly five minutes home and I'm not even allowed to relax."

"Yeah, I remember those moments. Not great," muttered Layla, though her attention was now back on her friend's cast. Luckily for her, Drew soon disappeared inside, and she was able to ask the question both she and the woman beside her were dying to ask. "What happened to your wrist?"

"Oh. Uh, silly me." Tiffany began to explain, the calm breeze blowing back strands of her pretty blonde hair as she glanced in-between them. "I really do live up to my hair colour. I was... actually, it's funny. Drew and I were having so much fun in Hawaii that we completely forgot about the time—we had to rush to the airport to get on the plane back here. We made it but I ended up tripping and I hurt myself badly. I was late today because I had to go to the hospital to get this cast fixed."

"I'm so sorry, honey." Maryse looked sympathetic as she rubbed a hand on her shoulder. "That must have put you in a bad mood. All that gorgeous weather and perfection, and then this happens? How horrible."

"I'm actually grateful that I got to experience all that before the accident." She shrugged. A smile curved her lips again. Tiffany had a way of making the others feel at ease and she was glad to see their expressions soon mirrored hers. What could she say? She was the sweetest of the women without a doubt. "And if I get sad about the injury, all I have to do is remind myself of my new last name. I'm really happy."

"Then we're happy for you," said Layla, her smile growing wider. "So what did you get up to? You're going to have to tell us everything."

"And I would love to, but I'm just so tired right now. The hospital process took longer than I expected and I'm just so happy to be home that I could do with a few hours rest in my room. Would you guys mind if I took a rain check? Besides, I'm sure I'd only have to tell Eve everything tomorrow that I would tell you now."

"That makes sense. We'll leave you to get back to your new husband. I'll ring you tomorrow and we can meet up for a girly chat."

"And remember," smirked Maryse, the two already backing away, "We want _all _of the sordid details."

"You've got it." Another giggle. "See you tomorrow."

As soon as she stepped inside of her house—the safety of a door separating her and the outside world—the mood she'd put on just for her friends disappeared. There was nothing left to the newlywed and she simply rested for a moment, looking ahead with a blank stare; she felt like all the wind had been knocked out of her. Again.

Tiffany found her husband in the kitchen. She looked at him angrily. He didn't respond in any way to her – only downed the last of the scotch he'd poured for himself. "Please don't ask me to lie for you again," she told him calmly enough, "It made me feel uncomfortable. I'm glad you could do it so _easily._"

She hooked her handbag onto her unhurt wrist and bounded away with as much confidence as she could muster. Only dropping the act once she was in the bathroom, she exhaled deeply and stared into the mirror—the person staring back at her was someone she didn't recognize.

But she had other things to worry about.

Rummaging around in one of the zipped pockets of her designer blood red bag, she slid her fingers over items until she found the specific thing she was looking for. She pulled it out cautiously, careful not to look too quickly at it. There was something holding her back.

_Tiffany McIntyre_, she began talking to herself in her head, a well-known thing for her to do in desperate times, _You are a grown woman. Accept the consequences of what you're about to get into – if you're about to get into anything. Things will sort themselves out. They always do._

The blonde let out another long breath and then turned over the item in her hand. Cautious eyes followed the line on the pregnancy test from left to right – right until it reached the little digital screen. The word stood out boldly: _**PREGNANT.**_

And suddenly, Tiffany felt her world crumbling into little, irretrievable pieces.

All she'd ever wanted was a family—it had been a dream to have three or four little terrors running around, testing her patience throughout her life with their every crisis—but as she suddenly dropped the stick to the floor, she could feel the tears coming on. This was _not_ how she wanted it all to happen. This _wasn't_ how she wanted the magical journey to start.

A quick rap of knuckles on the other side of the door startled her. She swallowed down the lump in her throat and dropped to her knees, fingernails scraping the bathroom floor to pick up the pregnancy test. "What?" She asked.

"Look, I'm sorry, Tiff." His tone of voice was apologetic. She heard a soft bump and assumed he'd just leaned against the door. The newlywed paused for a moment to hear anything he had to say. "I have to go to the meeting soon but let me make this up to you. When I get back, I'll cook you a romantic dinner."

"Do you _really_ think one dinner is going to make up for what you did?" Tiffany demanded. She clutched the test tighter in her hand. "I can't believe you."

"No, I don't, but this is just the start of it all. I'm going to cook you dinner tonight, we can have a nice bottle of wine. Your favourite, maybe. We can really talk—"

Drew was forced to stand up properly when she twisted the doorknob and yanked it open. With nothing separating them now, the mood was a lot more intense than either one thought it should have been. "There'll be no wine for me." Angrily, she pushed the pregnancy test into his chest, forcing him to take it. "And no, this is not the way I wanted to tell you."

She didn't wait for his reaction. Rather than do that, the blonde raced towards her bedroom, intent on shutting him out of it. He followed too quickly though, stunned by the news. "You're... _pregnant?_" He asked incredulously even though the proof was right in front of his eyes.

All he received was a nod in return. It seemed like she couldn't even speak to him anymore. "Tiff, this is amazing." A smile began to lift his lips but he knew better than to let it. His solemn mood once again returned. "Let me make this up to you. Please?"

She said nothing.

He leaned forward, brushing away rebellious strands of her hair and curling them around her ears. When he noticed she hadn't flinched, he kissed her on both cheeks slowly. His lips then moved to her own, but she only kissed him back lightly before pulling away entirely.

"You're going to be late to your meeting." Tiffany told him without a single shred of emotion – a strange thing for the bubbly woman to do. It surprised him as much as it did her. "I wouldn't want to keep you. I'll see you tonight."

Without allowing her husband another chance to speak, she shut the bedroom door behind her. Once safely aware that she was alone, she crawled into the king-sized bed, hiding deep under the covers, and cried herself into a light sleep.

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So there's the next chapter. Please review :)

_- In the next chapter: Eve embarrasses herself in front of her new neighbour._


	3. Let Me Entertain You

**The Good Life**

_AN._ Thank you to **xHalosandwings, HappySmiler, BestyLovesMickie, VanityMayhem, xsostarstruck, keepthefaithx, xTwistedxImperfectionx, Nadia26 **_& _**quteash **for reviewing the last chapter.

Thanks muchly! :)

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_Chapter Three – Let Me Entertain You_

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It was a known fact that Eve Torres hated Monday mornings. Trudging downstairs half-asleep in a baggy old shirt of her ex-husband's, she felt no differently about this particular one; there was something inside of her engineered to hate everything about the start of the week.

Tip-toeing over to the sink, she reached for a clean glass and poured herself some water from the jug sitting there. She took a few gulps to quench her thirst and then pulled back the drapes to stare out of the window—there was always something interesting happening in Avidian Lane.

A faint smile touched her lips when she looked across the road and spotted Layla sunbathing in a skimpy black bikini. She wasn't sure whether the housewife was aware of the attention she was receiving from guys close by, or that she just didn't care about being in the bright spotlight – it could very well be both options.

She shook her head playfully as she glanced away, towards the house next door to her own. While making arrangements on the phone last night for Emily DiBiase and her son to hang out, Maryse had let it slip that a couple of men had come by with a moving van and unpacked their things.

Eve would be lying if she said she wasn't intrigued by the new arrival. More than anything, she wanted to get dressed and rush over there with some sort of gift, if only to be nosy. Unfortunately, she'd done that one too many times and was beginning to wonder if it was actually her who was driving her neighbours away.

... But would it hurt just to pick up a random item—or maybe cook something—and bring it round? She was only being friendly...

The answer was already clear in her mind, but while searching for something non-edible to give, the Latina woman was distracted by a certain item that she knew shouldn't have been there. Picking up the iPod in one hand and the phone in another, she dialled a number known off by heart.

"_What?"_ Logan greeted her with the usual hostility. _"I've got to get to homeroom."_

"You left your music player here. Do you want me to run it in for you? It's no problem; I know how you can't get through the school day without it."

_"No, Dad got me an iPhone yesterday. It's got all of my music on it already."_

"Oh right, of course. I guess I just forgot."

_"Don't lie, you don't know anything about technology. God, will you stop trying to be cool?"_

Eve couldn't respond, as her fifteen year-old child decided it was time to hang up on her. The frustration that coursed through her each time a conversation with Logan ended this way wasn't so easy to forget about this time, and she found herself thinking about the insult hurled her way.

She wasn't cool, huh?

Flicking her untamed brunette curls back, she picked up the iPod again, placing both headphones into her ears. Once she figured out how to work it, she pushed the volume up and pressed play—a heavy rap song blasted back at her. And then she started dancing, just like in her old WWE days.

In fact, the former Diva forgot all about her hatred of Monday mornings as she broke free of the choreographed routine and simply started jumping around, truly enjoying herself. Here she was dancing about in her kitchen to a popular song – she was _totally_ being cool and fun.

Yet half a minute later, she didn't feel so cool or fun anymore. Breathlessly, she danced her way to the direction of the window... and she didn't find herself staring into an empty front yard. No, a familiar face was staring back at her, thoroughly amused as she suddenly stopped and ripped the headphones out of her ears. Further embarrassment ensued when she glanced down, wondering what he was staring at now, and saw that her shirt was hitched up to her waist. Her lacy panties were on show.

Inwardly cringing, she attempted to pull of the ultimate nonchalance as she cleared her throat and pushed the shirt back down. She was painfully aware of how short it was, barely reaching mid-thigh, and padded over barefoot to open the door. "What are you doing here?" was the first question to spill through her mouth. And then, "Please tell me you're not a really good stalker."

"No, I'm your new neighbour. I moved in yesterday."

The brunette saw the way his eyes kept travelling down to her legs. "I'd prefer it if you were a stalker. Or not here at all."

"And there was me thinking the Ice Queen routine was just a one-time thing." He acted hurt despite the small smirk at the corner of his lips. "I'm Alex Riley. You didn't give me a chance to introduce myself before... too busy telling me we were from different parts of town..."

In her way of defeat, the housewife pushed her hand into his, opting for a handshake. "Eve Torres. Welcome to Avidian Lane."

"Don't sound so upset. I'm sure you and me could," Alex paused for a moment and ran his thumb delicately over her own, "have a lot of fun together."

"Mm. I doubt that." She broke out of the hold they shared. "Can I help you with anything else?"

After a moment of laughter—alone on his part—Alex nodded. "Yeah, actually I was wondering if your water system was working or if it's just me who can't get any hot water."

"Oh. Stay right there and I'll go check."

As if training a dog, Eve held up a finger to stop him from entering and when she was sure he wasn't going to, she walked over to the sink. She checked the hot water top, quickly running her fingers underneath it, and then returned to him. "It's fine here."

"Damn, I'll have to call someone round to fix it. Thanks anyway."

"Sure, no problem."

"I'm still holding that offer of hanging out open. You could come round—"

"Goodbye, Alex."

A door shutting in his face clearly wasn't enough to deter Mr. Riley and he moved back to the window. His muffled reply through the glass of, "Love the panties, by the way," caught her off-guard and she was left with his smirk before he casually strolled away.

Eve grimaced at nothing in-particular as she went upstairs to shower. This was the start of something horrible, wasn't it?

* * *

The school day went by quickly.

Emily DiBiase was so pleased about this that she _almost_ didn't mind the fact she had to give Logan Torres a ride back to her house. She _almost_ didn't mind that his presence in the back seat distracted her from the boy she was supposed to be focusing on. But last period had caught up to her quickly and she was far too happy to let these little things get to her.

"So I got a call-back." She blurted out excitedly from the passenger's seat, unable to hold in her news for any longer. "I swear, when I make it big in the music industry I'm going to have this part to thank. Can't you imagine the interviews... it all started when I got a part as an extra in a music video..."

"You're not going to make it big, babe." The guy who was driving, her older boyfriend, smirked. "You know that, right?"

"You just wait, Tyler. I'll prove you wrong and you'll be begging to be with famous me."

Logan was caught in-between laughing and scoffing as he watched the blonde girl lean out of her seat and place a kiss on the jerk's cheek. He'd never got along with Tyler and his belief that they were just too different was strengthened now; the difference was that the guy upfront didn't have a nice bone in his body and he did. More than anyone knew.

Flirting between the young couple continued in excruciating fashion until he was able to see Emily's house come into view and was happy to know it wouldn't be long until he was able to escape the scene.

Pulling up outside of the DiBiase household, Tyler leaned over and gave his girlfriend a long kiss—it was during this moment that Logan jumped over the closed car door and made his way inside. He was always welcome in the house, unlike the guy outside in his convertible.

"Good to see you again, Logan." Mr. DiBiase surprised him as soon as he walked through to the kitchen. "Where's Emily?"

"Outside with Tyler. I'm sure she'll come in soon."

"That kid again?" Ted questioned as he grabbed the open cookie jar beside him on the counter and proffered one to his friend's son. Taking one himself, he shook his head. "I was hoping she would have moved on by now. How long has it been?"

"A couple of months at least." Biting into his own cookie, he tried not to spray crumbs everywhere with his next sentence. "I should know – I can remember every stupid ride home."

"Ouch. You still don't like him, huh?"

"No disrespect to your daughter or their relationship, obviously... but yeah, he's a dick. Sorry about the language."

"Don't apologize. Sometimes words say everything."

"Sometimes they're just plain rude." Both turned at the sound of Emily's voice. She dropped her bag down angrily onto the chair nearby. "Great parenting skills, Dad. Just go ahead and teach him to call _my boyfriend_ a dick."

"I'm teaching him to be truthful." Ted explained but stopped short at the glare she gave him. "God, you're turning into a mini-version of your mother more and more everyday..." Another glare. "Which – of course – is a wonderful thing. You two have fun together."

The guy gave Logan a supportive squeeze on the shoulder and then kissed his daughter on the cheek before he left. Watching him go, the blonde shook her head. "I'm going to practise in the studio. Are you coming or are you going to be a nerd and do your homework instead?"

He rolled his eyes, a gesture she didn't particularly like. "I'm in. Who needs education when you're going to become a huge superstar, right?"

"You'll understand my passion one day. Why can't you just be supportive of me like Tyler is?"

He refrained from responding as he followed her out of the kitchen, through a few doors and into the spacious music studio—Tyler Durnham was not worth his breath and Emily was not worth correcting. As per usual, he took a seat behind the glass that separated him from the actual recording booth. He watched as she slipped through the door and placed herself behind the microphone.

It took a couple of minutes for her to get ready – one of which included taking slow sips of water – but soon enough, Emily was set to start. He began the music for her, adjusting a few settings like she'd taught him to, and then relaxed comfortably into his seat.

Logan watched intently, his mother's words about being in love with her briefly coming to mind. A soft smile touched his lips as he studied her profile; the way in which she closed her eyes and allowed the slow beat to take her over truly fascinated him. She was very passionate about her music and there was no denying it.

He suddenly believed her words about making it big. More than that, he believed _in her._

* * *

It was always a rare occasion when William Regal _graced_ his wife with his presence in their house. He was always away so much with the company, an important factor in the planning process for each Raw and Smackdown show, that it was always surprising... and disappointing... to find him coming home each night.

It was a much, much rarer occasion when an actual conversation was raised between husband and wife. Two hours ago, Layla had been tanning outside with only the peace and quiet to enjoy – now she was inside, sitting on the wide window ledge and trying to spy on the house across the street. This third guy had to be moving in soon, right?

"Are you even listening to me?"

Her head snapped back in William's direction. He looked confused—and with a shudder she had to hide, she realized this was his sex face too—and waited for an answer as he stood over her. "Yes, of course honey." She told him, her eyes drifting away again.

"Well I highly doubt that." The amusement was clear to hear in his tone of voice. "I'm sure you'd have something more to say about what I just told you if you had been listening."

His presence was starting to bother her. He was just there, hovering. She _hated_ people who hovered. Inhaling deeply, she swung her legs around, quickly grabbing the magazine she'd kept on her lap to feign reading if she was caught staring over at the house, and smiled warmly at the old guy. "I'm sorry. You were right, I was miles away." If there was one thing she'd learnt, it was that he loved the idea of being right all the time. "What was it you were talking about, William?"

"Children."

He was monitoring her carefully. Aware that she couldn't express her feelings about that one word on the outside, she stuck to confronting it in her thoughts. The first thing that came to mind was quite simple: _Fuck._ And then a long round of: _Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck._

Smoothly, she answered. "What about them?"

William nodded. "I think we should have them."

There were some things that just couldn't be disguised – not when the initial reaction is so much stronger than one expects. Layla stood to her feet, crossing her arms over her chest stubbornly. "_What? _But I can hardly..." A reaction couldn't be controlled, but her words were up for debate. "... bear you being away from me for so long. I could never raise a baby alone, it just wouldn't be fair."

Inwardly, she congratulated herself. Had she really just been about to say that she could hardly stand having sex with him, let alone having sex with the knowledge they were trying for a baby?

"Which is why, sweetheart," His sickeningly sweet British accent flowed through her ears as he brushed loose strands of her hair out of her face and behind her ears, "I'm going to be around a lot more from now on. Do you really think if there was an issue in the air of a baby that I would spend so much time at work?"

Sudden thoughts of her looking into a yellow crib in nine months time, looking all _motherly_ and _committed _with William by her side filled her with dread. This had to be a dream, right? This was just something she could wake up from. They'd never discussed children before—she'd always assumed it was never an issue they had to deal with as a couple—so this was just a conversation that had gotten a little out of hand.

... Right?

"So why the sudden turnaround?" She attempted nonchalance, wondering if by asking the simple question she could get to the root of the problem – maybe talk him out of it? "You never talked about having kids when we first met."

"I've always thought about it; I've just never told you because I wanted to make sure you were the one."

She panicked. "_The one?"_ The housewife repeated. She had a feeling she knew where this was going, and she didn't like it one little bit.

"We've been happily married for a year now – it's time we started trying for a baby." He caressed her cheek. She appeared frozen in place, not that he noticed; he was far too caught up in the image of their future together. "I've dreamed of being a father for some time and now I know that you're the one. You're going to be the mother of my children."

It was a first for Layla but she was rendered speechless. The little woman with the huge amount to say was genuinely stumped. A smile began to play on her lips before she could stop it—it was to comfort her grinning husband more than anything. This was obviously a dream she hadn't known about... but what to say in response to it? What _could_ she say without compromising everything she'd worked so hard to achieve?

"Well go on, say something. This is supposed to be an exciting time for both of us. We're going to have a baby!"

She didn't know what was she more shocked by: the fact that he was in an exceedingly good mood for once or that she realized he was _expecting _her to say yes. Just like that. It was as though she didn't even have a choice in the matter.

Layla swallowed. "Yay?" A barely audible word spilled through her almost unmoving lips. It was more of a croak than anything else.

William Regal didn't need any more convincing than that and kissed his wife, uncaring of the fact she hadn't reciprocated, and pulled her into a tight squeeze.

It was a shame she hadn't been prepared for this conversation. If she had, maybe their talk would have run for a much shorter time and she would have seen her ex-lover exiting a vehicle across the street, ready to move in to his new place...

* * *

So there's the next chapter. Please review :)

_- In the next chapter: Meeting up with Tiffany for gossip about the honeymoon at Eve's house, the ladies of Avidian Lane find themselves invited to a poker game at her new neighbour's house._


	4. Game Night

**The Good Life**

_AN._ Thank you to **keepthefaithx, quteash, VanityMayhem, xTwistedxImperfectionx, xHalosandwings, Cena-Wilson-Crazy, BestyLovesMickie **_&_ **xsostarstruck **for reviewing the last chapter.

Thanks muchly! :)

_

* * *

_

_Chapter Four – Game Night_

_

* * *

_

"These cookies are delicious... really, you can taste the... so clearly..."

"The fact you can't string together a full sentence only tells me the one thing I already know. My cooking sucks."

Silence followed. Frowning as she collected the full plate of treats from the middle of the wooden table, Eve told herself the following: she would never attempt to cook anything ever again. And that this time she would stick to the promise and not be fooled into giving it one last go. She was sick of pretending like calling for a take-out each night wasn't an option, let alone her son.

Layla, the woman who'd so thoughtfully put together that compliment, moved on swiftly. Though she looked cool and casual whilst leaning back in her seat, arm propped behind the chair as she angled her body in Eve's direction, it was obvious something was bothering her. "Yeah well – your cookies suck and ditto to my husband."

Maryse glanced at the clock behind the British woman's head. Tiffany was supposed to have arrived at least five minutes ago. "Oh yeah? What has he done this time?" She really didn't mean to sound so uninterested but William Regal had been brought up in a negative light so often that the comment wasn't at all surprising.

"Get this – he wants kids!" She approved of the horrified stares she was given in return. "I know right? That was my reaction too, only I couldn't show him because he sounded so in love with the idea of a family."

"Does he know that you think children are the work of the devil?"

"Okay, when I said that before I was drunk—"

"You'd had half a glass of wine," interrupted her French friend, exchanging an amused glance with the brunette woman over by the sink.

"—_and_ I don't necessarily mean it. I just think my life is better off without them. That's all, I swear."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, of course. Some women are just more comfortable not being a mother, and I am one of those people."

"Fair's fair." Eve shrugged. "Not everyone's cut out for this sort of life. Sometimes I think I'm not either—it's so hard being a single parent sometimes."

Thinking privately in her head that sometimes it felt like she was a single parent too, Maryse struggled to come up with an appropriate contribution to the conversation. Luckily for her, she was interrupted by the arrival of Tiffany, who looked chirpy as ever upon walking through the front door.

"And she's officially back," announced Layla, beaming as the young blonde went around the room giving everyone hugs. Once she was done, she took the vacant seat next to Maryse. "We missed your smile every day, hon."

"I was only gone for two weeks but you guys are sweet anyway. I missed you all so much."

"Oh c'mon, two weeks away with your new husband? Think about all the hot sex you guys must have been having."

"Maryse! What if Logan heard you talking like that?"

"But he won't. I dropped him off at a friend's house about an hour ago and he's staying the night here. So spill it all, blushing bride."

"Well there's going to be a lot of talking in that case. Four coffees to go round?"

"Coming right up." Eve smiled and turned to set the coffee maker going. "Black or white?"

By the time they gave their answers, she'd whipped out four mugs from the cupboards above. An absent-minded glance out of the window provided her with an image she didn't expect to see—her eyes lingered at the sight of Alex Riley shirtless inside of his own home. He was facing sideways to her, obviously talking to someone else unable to be seen, but his hand was roaming across the window ledge for a clean shirt to wear.

Of all the places to unpack his clothes, why did he have to choose that spot? Didn't he know they could see into each other's houses from these windows?

And why—_oh God, why—_had she not looked away before he turned around and saw her gawping? Despite the distance between them, she could have sworn there was a smile on his face before he slipped a shirt over his head.

Banishing all thoughts of those wonderful abs out of her mind, she carried the mugs over to the table, setting them down with a smile. "Here we go."

"Eve, sweetheart, do you have a screw loose or something?" Maryse raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow. After a few seconds of confused silence, she explained the smirk on her face. "You forgot to pour the coffee in. These are empty mugs."

"Oh... so they are. Sorry about that – carry on talking and I'll actually pour the coffee this time."

They did just that, dismissing her ditsy behaviour as nothing more than normal coming from her. Back to the same spot, she risked a look over to the other window one more time and was relieved to see he wasn't there. It was with a relaxed smile that she got back on track with the drinks-making.

And then there was a knock at the door.

Even before she saw who her visitor was, she had an eerie feeling about who it could be. It all appeared to happen in slow motion. Before she could shout "Hide!" or something as equally ridiculous, Tiffany had risen to her feet and answered the door on her behalf.

"Girls, this is Alex Riley from next door. He just moved in, though apparently Layla and Eve have already met him." She addressed Maryse.

"Great to meet you both," said the guy with an easy smile and glanced in-between them. "I just thought I'd come and invite you around to my house for game night. It's a tradition and the guys and I thought it would be a great way to get to know our neighbours."

"Oh. Well we're kind of busy so thanks but no thanks."

"Eve, we can save this chat for another time. I promise. Alex, I'd love to. My husband's working so I'll definitely be able to come."

"Ted won't even know I'm gone and this sounds fun..."

"I need a break from my house. I'm in."

"Awesome." Alex nodded. He turned to the last adult to give a proper answer. "Eve?"

Was he challenging her with that smile? "Oh, I have a thing."

"What thing?" Layla questioned curiously.

"You know that thing... with Logan..."

"You just said yourself that he was staying at a friend's house for the night."

"Excellent." The Latina spoke with a strict smile towards her friends. "Then I guess I'm free for it."

"How does half-an-hour sound?"

Everyone murmured their approval and Tiffany saw him back out. Upon returning, she took the lead in staring at Eve. The brunette merely shrugged. "Coffee anyone?"

* * *

Thirty minutes later, the four women found themselves on the doorstep of Mr. Riley's house. They all seemed to be in their own little world—especially Tiffany, who wondered if her lie about Drew working when he was in-fact at home would come back to bite her in the ass—when an unfamiliar face greeted them.

A beer in hand, he introduced himself as Mike Mizanin – explaining that everyone called him Miz – and invited them all inside. They took in their new surroundings, seeing all the clutter of the newly moved-in guys and instantly forgave the mess; they all knew what it was like to unpack in Avidian Lane and it was not an easy task.

"The game room is right through here." Mike ushered them in the right direction, his eyes lingering on Maryse for a special moment. She didn't appear to notice. "John's in the kitchen getting some food and drink together."

"I don't suppose you have any _Zinfandel_?" Layla asked.

"She likes specific things." Eve explained with a polite smile.

"Right. Uh, I don't think so," he turned back to the petite woman, "but you can go and see what we do have. The kitchen's right behind us."

The British woman seemed more than happy to do this. While the other ladies made themselves comfortable around the poker table and gave Alex another warm hello, save for Eve who childishly sat as far away from him as possible, Layla headed solo into the other room.

It took approximately five seconds for her to realize her mistake.

A very familiar face stared back at her in surprise from the moment she walked in. He must have been mirroring her expressions because she felt herself freeze instantly; was this what it was like to be in proper shock? She'd known her heart to beat in irregular motions before—mainly when her husband decided he wanted sex from her—but never had it given her this much trouble. It felt like a mini heart attack was on its way when their eyes locked.

The tension between them was undeniable as he opened his mouth to say, "Layla?" The bowl of snacks he was collecting was completely forgotten about while he looked her up and down, as if the mere sight of her wasn't enough to believe in.

"What are you..." But she soon trailed off, barely a whisper passing through her lips.

It was funny. She hadn't acquainted his name with her ex-boyfriend when Mike had said it aloud—not even a flicker of recognition passed through her—but now she supposed she should have done. Then again, how many Johns of the world were there? It was a common name, and just her luck that the one she knew personally would be standing opposite her now.

Eventually the former Diva picked up on her trail of thought again. "Cena, what are you doing here?"

"What are _you _doing here?" He countered just as quickly. "Alex told me there was a Layla chick who introduced herself... and it turns out to be you? You've got to be kidding me."

"You and me both." Pressing a hand to her forehead, she briefly closed her eyes; unbeknownst to her, he studied her in this time. When she opened them again she felt no more confident than half a minute earlier. "This has to be a dream. You and me... we were done. Finished. That was _it._ And now you're here? Living on the street I live on?"

"Well I didn't plan it this way if that's what you're suggesting." There was more than a hint of venom in his voice and she remembered it well from previous, painful encounters. "Believe me when I say this is as much of a surprise to you as it is to me."

There was so much more than needed to be said between them. The troubled woman knew this well and yet she couldn't help but rush forward, press her hand lightly against his arm in a dangerous gesture and stare up at him with a panicked look in her eyes. "No-one can know about us – about our past. Have you told anyone?"

"You always were so thoughtful." He pulled away from her touch, almost sneering down at her. "And no, of course I haven't told anyone. I never told anybody about us. I didn't really want to retell the story of the callous bitch who only thought about herself and hurt everyone else in the meantime."

His words didn't hurt her—it was the fact that he _still_ felt this way about her despite the amount of time passed between them since the big day. _The big day_—she'd never forgotten about it. No matter how hard she tried to. Swallowing down the memories, she opened her mouth to speak, only to be talked over the second she uttered the first word of her sentence.

"You haven't changed at all." John was focusing on the food in front of him again. It hurt her to know he could barely look at her. "Don't you ever get sick of being so isolated from everybody?"

_More than you'll ever know. _"I have good friends here. I have strong friendships with people and... and I'm in a good relationship with my husband."

A bitter laugh passed through him. "Right, of course. Answer me this: why are you always trying to be someone you're not?"

Taken aback by this question, Layla placed a hand on her hip. She supposed she wanted to look angry with him. "What does _that_ mean?"

"Forget it." He muttered. "I can't even face you right now. You're just... go and find everybody else. I swear I won't tell anyone about our history. I wouldn't want to anyway."

There was so much pain in her heart as she realized he wasn't looking at her anymore. Was it that difficult to? The housewife tried to meet his eyes but he kept them down and away from her. "I'm sorry." A trace of remorse was evident in her tone of voice but no more than she allowed. "I'll see you out there."

She made her way into the game room, her heart pounding so loudly in her ears that she was shocked nobody else made a comment. Couldn't they hear the incessant thumps too?

"I saved you a seat next to me." Maryse patted the space in-between herself and Mike. Her smile was perfect, unknowing. "We're talking about who's the best at this particular game."

"And though Frenchie and Miz argued for awhile—_trust me _when I say their egos together are just... _wow_—we agreed that you were the best. Hence the reason you're sitting next to Maryse now."

"She's going to try and bargain with you for tips," said Tiffany, ever-knowing despite the smile on her face. "Hold your ground, Lay. Don't let her cheat."

"I was going to do no such thing. Lay, you've known me longer than anyone—"

"Oh, she's pulling that card!" Eve commented. She and the other blonde began to laugh, and the guys were amused by the banter between the women – even if they had no idea what they were talking about. "But since you've known her longer than anyone else, actually..."

"... You'll know exactly what she's like. It's okay, Eve; it's pretty obvious that she knows Maryse is going to cheat."

The dark-haired woman felt a tinge of something as she listened to them, but her head was barely in the game. They didn't appear to notice—the three were now conversing with Alex and Mike, teaching them about previous games of poker where the French housewife had showed her _skill_ before. She was left inside of her own little world, just how she wanted it to be, to go over everything that'd just happened.

She felt her throat dry up and took a desperate sip of Maryse's drink, dismissing the horrible taste that tickled her taste buds. She had no argument against poor choice when she was in a dilemma such as this – all logical ways of thinking went out of the window instantly.

John Cena was here. _John Cena._ Her ex-lover was standing just one room away. She was sitting in _his_ house and was expected to talk to him tonight like they were the perfect strangers. Never mind how hard this alone would be to do, wasn't it harder to acknowledge they'd be seeing each other a lot more from now on?

The man in her thoughts stepped into the room soon after she forced herself to pay attention to the others. She was careful not to look at him as he was introduced to the three. Even when Eve leaned over, whispering in her ear about how cute he was, she didn't stray.

"And you've obviously met Layla before."

Her head snapped in Alex's direction. "What?"

He laughed at her. "Head in the clouds tonight?" A beat later, he added, "I assume you spent all that time in the kitchen talking to him. You didn't ignore him while you looked around for something to drink, did you?"

"Always the comedian." John saved her from answering as he took a seat next to Tiffany. The pregnant blonde smiled warmly at him – he couldn't help but to return it. "Yeah, we talked for a while. We know each other pretty well."

Then she risked a glance at him. While everyone else delved into conversation about how good they were at poker, the group finally together to discuss such things, they held an intense gaze with one another. Neither let up until they were called into the subject themselves.

"You know what?" Maryse's strong accent spoke quietly into her ear over the babble – even over Mike sitting on her opposite side, and he was loud. "I'm happy they've moved here. They all seem like decent guys and let's face it, Avidian Lane needed dressing up. Don't you think?"

"Definitely. Just check out the talent."

"Ha, trust you to focus on that. It's so you, Layla."

That's what she'd been aiming for. It was critical to act as normal, as in-character, as possible for tonight. If the slightest reveal of her anxious mood was revealed, questions would be raised by her closest friends – and that was something she did _not_ want to deal with on top of everything else.

"Is everyone ready to go ahead and play the game?" Alex asked with a smile, pleased with the way things had turned out, oblivious to two certain people's objections.

The adults sitting around the table nodded or murmured their approval, save for John and Layla, and the game began. Competitive spirits rose throughout it. Layla El Regal was simply thankful that she had the perfect poker face.

* * *

So there's the next chapter. Please review :)

_- In the next chapter: Maryse grows increasingly worried about the problems in her marriage after a rocky moment, while Tiffany has her first baby scan at the hospital._


	5. Change

**The Good Life**

_AN._ Thank you to **xHalosandwings, VanityMayhem, CHRiSTiNEx3, Cena-Wilson-Crazy, xsostarstruck, xTwistedxImperfectionx, BestyLovesMickie, Nadia26, keepthefaithx **_&_ **LayChellexRhodes **for reviewing the last chapter.

Thanks very muchly! :)

* * *

_Chapter Five – Change_

* * *

There were a few select things Maryse Ouellet loved about the early hours of the morning.

The first was how at peace she felt with herself while the light of the sun slowly trickled through the gaps of the curtains and the birds began to sing. It was a gift in itself to be awake for the proper start of a day and have a moment to relax before the hectic rush of her everyday life began.

The second was how in control she was when nobody else was awake in the house. On the rare occasion when she wasn't bothered with incompetent people, she had the time to plan out what needed to be dealt with and in which way—a clear mind in situations like this always made for a good mood.

The third – and most important thing – was... this. Sitting up comfortably in bed, she found great warmth in her husband as he rested his head on her camisole-clad chest, one strong arm draped protectively over her flat stomach. She was stroking his hair while he slept; lost in this moment now, Maryse was positively glowing. It was small shared moments like this that made her happy to be living this life.

Leaning down, she placed a tender kiss on his head. He stirred a little and she smiled to herself when he pulled her closer. "Good morning." She whispered. He groaned in response. "I have thirty minutes until my wedding dress designer walks through the front door – do you have any idea what we could do with the time?"

Even if Ted DiBiase wasn't fully awake, his fingers were already beginning to roam. He understood her implication perfectly, stealing a giggle from the French woman when he started playing with the hem of her panties, pushing them down slowly...

The wrestler woke up properly soon enough, sitting up, but only to grab his wife's slim waist and pull her on top of him. Straddling his waist now, she leaned into him, allowing her blonde hair to form a glossy curtain around them as their lips met for a morning kiss. The moment was passionate and tender, and Maryse – though surprised – knew she couldn't have asked for a better start to the day.

A quick glance at the clock through untamed curls seemed to curse the progression made, however, and he pushed her off of him—without any care, it seemed—to stand to his feet. She watched through shocked eyes while he rushed around the bed, picking up random items of his clothing to see if they were decent enough to wear.

"What just happened?" She asked, a little to herself. The reverse had come around so unnaturally. "Ted, what are you doing?"

"Jesus, Maryse. I have a business meeting to get to—how is Vince going to react if his big superstar, soon to be WWE champion again, doesn't arrive to a simple meet?"

"Better question: how is your wife going to react when you're openly hostile towards her? Care to find out?"

After pulling a light grey shirt over his head, he turned to face her. The upset blonde was now sitting up in the perfect Queen Bee position with her arms folded angrily across her chest. "Sweetheart," he said in a tone that shouldn't have sounded so condescending, "I don't have time for this. It would be unforgivable for me to put the company second."

She scoffed. "To me? _Unforgivable?_"

Ted briefly pinched the bridge of his nose, frustrated. "You know I didn't mean it like that – it came out wrong."

"No, no, don't explain. I understand. Your career is more important than your family." She held up a long index finger when he opened his mouth to protest. "And I know you were about to say you've heard this speech a thousand times before – well guess what? You deserve to hear it! Sometimes I think you don't even love me anymore..."

Words were supposed to form together magically, but he didn't appear to have the energy to argue; she took this as a sign of defeat and shook her head before spitting out fast-paced sentences in her native tongue. Eventually, he couldn't take the criticism anymore – whether or not he understood it – and walked over to her. "Now why wouldn't I love someone like you? I'm the proudest man there is for having you by my side."

He placed a tender kiss on her forehead, expecting to see a light smile appear on her face. But instead of seeing the beautiful smirk he'd fallen in love with in the first place, she looked upset.

"What's wrong now?" He continued. Turning away, he quickly busied himself into changing. "Do you want me to buy you something – is that it?"

Her blank stare at the baby blue wallpaper ahead was suddenly interrupted. All she could see of him was his muscular back, but that didn't stop her from glaring at it. "What I wanted was some attention from my husband. I guess that's too much to ask. You didn't exactly answer my question. _Do_ you love me?"

Now ready to go out, he gave himself a second to deal with her mood. In this moment, he knew exactly what to do—he had to grovel at her feet, worship her and remind her just how much he loved her. Only he didn't want to. Not now at least. "I fell in love with you because of this _bitch_ routine you've got going on," the word sounded harsh rolling off of his tongue, "but now? Maryse, it's not so cute anymore. You can believe what you want to but I don't have time for this. And maybe you should direct that question at yourself, _sweetheart._ You're the one who's pushing so hard for a second wedding."

Unaware that he'd said far too much, the DiBiase man made to leave. He only made it to the bottom of the staircase before he heard her footsteps following his heavily—yes, she was definitely mad. Regardless, he carried on, managing to make it outside before she caught up.

"What is _that_ supposed to mean?" Her accent was heavier as she confronted him. This was a sign of trouble. "Answer me!"

Opening the car door, Ted stared at her. She was standing her ground in the cold, outside weather – skimpy nightwear and all. "It means that maybe you wouldn't be suggesting this second wedding crap if you were actually happy already. Why do you need this? Huh? 'Cause I sure as hell don't need the stress."

It was in that moment that Maryse understood one thing perfectly: _he_ simply didn't understand. He didn't understand _her_ or the meaning she was trying to convey in their anniversary do—and it was a horrible thing to realize that the man she loved more than any other in the world wasn't as connected to her as she was to him.

What had their relationship become?

As old nervous thoughts crept back into her system, she stared wordlessly until he drove away at a high speed. She didn't particularly care for her appearance as she was left there standing alone—it was the early hours of the morning, who would even be around?

... A new neighbour, apparently.

Mike Mizanin—or _The Miz_, as she remembered he liked to be called—jogged her way not a few seconds later, iPod plugged in and sweaty from a hard routine around the block. He slowed when he caught her there, and she could have sworn there was a tiny smirk on his face before he greeted her. "Early bird, huh?" He shouted, and then realized he still had his headphones in. He took them out and lowered his voice. "... Is everything okay?"

"Just perfect." She replied bitterly. She hadn't meant to sound so cold. His response was intriguing. Narrowing his eyes in interest, she realized he didn't mind the aggro she brought to the conversation. "Sorry. Ted and I just got into a little fight... and I'll be going inside now because I'm stood out here in my underwear..."

"Sure." Mike chuckled as he stuck one headphone back into his ear, ready to head off again. "But if you ever want to talk, I'm only across the street."

The former Diva didn't respond—she simply nodded and walked back inside, making sure to slam the door shut behind her. She wasn't over her anger just yet. Thinking about his offer, she almost laughed; she had Eve to talk to if anything became too intense to deal with on her own. That's the way it was and always would be.

Lost in her own little world of complicated thoughts, she barely noticed her daughter pad down the stairs tiredly. Emily yawned out her sentence. "You were just outside in _that_, weren't you?"

She looked down at her outfit. So maybe she looked a little... _mature._ "Yes but—"

The young girl held up a hand to stop her, much like her mother had done a few minutes ago to her husband. "Don't try to explain. I've pretty much accepted that you can't pick your own family. It's a shame, don't you think?"

* * *

The waiting area of the St. Andrews private institution for those expecting was a grand place. The walls were painted a brilliant white, eluding a faint sort of happy atmosphere for the women to relax in and feel like themselves. Everything was perfectly in place, from the couch and chair positions to the magazine racks.

Tiffany scanned through the latest issue of _OK! _while she waited quietly in the corner. She'd picked the loneliest spot possible, which was just how she liked it. Usually the most talkative of people, the pregnant woman was more than happy for today to simply be left alone.

Colourful words screamed out at her with each turn of the page, but she was far too immersed in her train of thoughts to concentrate on them—every now and again, she would try to get into the article displayed but it proved to be too difficult. Eventually, she closed it, breathing out slowly as she placed it back down on the table.

She took to staring at the wall next. Despite its intended cheeriness, she didn't feel like her bubbly self as her eyes absorbed the sight.

This was wrong, wasn't it? Her decision to come alone was now beginning to haunt her with each passing second. Looking around the spacious room in the next instant, seeing a few couples scattered here and there, she realized that this wasn't how it was supposed to be. Drew should be here by her side, holding her hand and whispering with her about funny baby names. All the others looked so happy as they did just this—she, on the other hand, felt neglected.

Drew didn't even know she was here. The housewife was fortunate that he was away on business all the same; if she'd lied to him like that in person and told him she would be out all day shopping, he would have called her on the act. She was a horrible liar. Hell, it was even hard to act nonchalant on the phone.

But here she was, and the Scottish superstar was happily convinced. She felt just awful about herself for her deceitful ways.

_Cheer up, Tiff._ A light smile curved her lips upwards. _You'll see the baby for the first time soon enough. It's going to come up on that scan and you're going to fall in love instantly. What isn't there to smile about?_

Except she found it wasn't as straightforward as that. Her smile dropped in the next couple of minutes and she returned to her subtle sulking. This was just all wrong.

"Tiffany McIntyre?" A friendly voice called out. Moving into sight, a red-headed woman with gentle blue eyes stared back at her. "I'm ready for you now... unless you need another five minutes?"

She must have looked upset. Quickly straightening out, she stood to her feet. The smile she gave was such a typical Tiffany smile. "Sorry, I was wrapped up in my own little world there. No, I'm fine – I guess I'll just follow you in?"

"It's right down the hall. I'm Katy Mullins, by the way." They shook hands before the kind doctor led the way. A bit of a distance away from each other, she raised her voice to add, "Is this your first time here, Tiffany? No husband or boyfriend to accompany you?"

"Yes, this is my first time here—it's a lovely place. Really, I've heard about St. Andrew's reputation and I'm definitely not disappointed." Closing the door behind her once they reached, she took a moment to prepare an answer. "And no husband today. He's terribly busy with work – he's away travelling at the moment – but he's gutted not to be here. I'm sure you'll see him on the next visit."

"Well okay then, I'm looking forward to it." Katy smiled. "Everything else seems to be in order from what I've checked on your file. Now we can do this two ways. A lot of people like to talk over the long details first and then get to the scan – others like the reversed option. You look like the sort of person—"

"The scan, definitely." Tiffany interrupted with a smile. "I'm sorry. With so much on my mind recently this is the one thing I've been looking forward to."

"I understand." A laugh. "You just lie yourself down over here and lift up your shirt for me."

The blonde did this. Her excitement simply grew and grew as Katy warned her of the cold gel about to be spread across her exposed stomach. She stared up at the ceiling for a moment to take in this scene. She would remember it for a long time to come.

"Are you aware of how far along you are? I'll be able to tell you with this scan but I'll only double-check if you already know."

"I'm not sure exactly." The ultrasonic transducer hovered over her stomach for a brief moment. "This is my first scan but I've known about being pregnant for a while now – ever since I missed my last period. I delayed taking the pregnancy test until a few days ago though."

"Not a problem. I'll tell you how many weeks you are exactly. Are you ready to see the first glimpse of your child? It might take a while for me to find the right image, but don't worry, we'll find it in the end."

A deep breath was taken. "It's okay, I'll wait. I'm definitely ready."

Doctor Mullins was careful to take her time as she moved her gaze in-between the flat stomach and the image on the screen. Tiffany unknowingly held her breath for that amount of time while she waited.

Drew crossed her mind and she found herself distracted. Even in what she knew would be one of the greatest times of her life, she couldn't help but to feel guilty—funny, considering all he had to be ashamed of. If anything, she thought she was justified to behave this way—to not include him on this magical visit—but the part of her that forgave most sins still mattered. She was far too sweet to completely hate him right now.

... Or was that the ecstatic feeling inside of her taking over? Either way, it was time to start thinking about what was important: the baby.

"And there we are," said Katy softly, smiling warmly as she faced Tiffany again. The blonde seemed reluctant to angle her head in the right direction. "You can look, I promise. I'm sure you'll be happy with what you see."

At her own pace, she prepared herself. When she eventually looked, she was soon stunned into silence – just not for the right reasons. Would it be foolish to admit she didn't really know what she was supposed to be looking at? She didn't want to look stupid in front of a smart professional woman.

"You can hear the heartbeats now. Can you hear them? They're nice and healthy, and you have absolutely nothing to worry about. You're roughly about eleven weeks pregnant."

"Oh, that's fantastic." Such relief coursed through her all of a sudden. This was perfect news... but what was that she said just a few seconds ago? Confusion struck her pretty heavily as she asked, "Forgive me if this sounds stupid but you said heartbeat_s_. That would mean..."

The doctor's smile grew. "There's one heartbeat..." She trailed off, but only to move a little bit to the right. "... And there's another one right there."

Tiffany remained speechless for a while, and Katy gave her the right to be so. After what seemed like forever – but in reality was only two minutes at the most – she uttered, "So that means... that I'm having..."

In the next moment she was helped to finish her sentence. The answer was clear and to the point – a word that surprised her. Even if she was expecting it by now.

"Twins."

* * *

So there's the next chapter. Please review :)

_- In the next chapter: A heated debate between Eve + her ex-husband brings about the appearance of Alex, while Layla gets a surprise from her husband that she doesn't want to accept..._


	6. Panic

**The Good Life**

_AN._ Thank you to **livelaughspear, Cena-Wilson-Crazy, xHalosandwings, xsostarstruck, xTwistedxImperfectionx, BestyLovesMickie, Nadia26, gabrielxdivaa, rocktheworldlew, BigRedMachineUK, keepthefaithx **_&_ **speakNOW.x **for reviewing the last chapter.

Thanks very muchly! :)

* * *

_Chapter Six – Panic_

* * *

Chris Masters was a dedicated father. He paid the alimony cheques in on time, he spent as much time with his son as the law required, and he genuinely seemed to care for the wellbeing of his family.

The one thing he was not – it was to be noted – was a loyal husband. This was proven from the moment Eve came back from a lovely shopping trip with the girls, bags full of newlywed gear, and bounced into her bedroom only to find another woman in bed with her man. The fact that she was younger and fitter only rubbed salt into the open wound.

Staring at him some time on from that day, the housewife oddly felt much more passionately about his crime. The hatred in her heart burned stronger and the glare in her eyes definitely hurt more.

It was today of all days, however, that had her defeated. She was simply too tired from one argument to start another. "It's not that I don't appreciate you getting all this pricey stuff for him," she stressed for the third time, "I just think it's a little bit overboard. He's fifteen years old."

"Evey, fifteen is a tender age for teenagers. They have to deal with all these expectations and keep themselves out of trouble. So I think—"

"That giving him all the latest popular gadgets will help him?"

"Oh come on, the kid deserves the best from us, doesn't he?"

"He needs to learn to work for the things he wants. 'The kid' is fifteen, yes, but it's just not right for him to get all of these presents."

"You know, I think I understand why Logan thinks I'm the better parent now. You're way too harsh on him."

A glare worked its way onto her features. She stared at him for a good while, taking in his current profile. Chris looked – like always – like he'd just stepped off the cover of a fashion magazine; leaning casually against the sink, arms folded across his chest in his pose, he exuded the confidence that had her falling for him in the first place.

Only this time round, she knew his mouth would ruin any sort of attraction she felt towards him.

"I'm not being harsh on him. I'm being a proper parent." The explanation caused him to scoff. Irritation was beginning to show clearly. "Oh please, Chris. You can't tell me that your method of buying him everything in sight is the right one. You're more like the cool uncle rather than his Dad."

"I don't see him complaining about _me_. Do you?"

"Yes well," she sighed and ushered him towards the front door, "don't expect a father of the year award to arrive in the mail anytime soon. Thank you for dropping him off. I'll see you in a couple of weeks."

"Already counting down the days, Evey." He chuckled, earning another glare and an even quicker walk out. "But don't you think it's time you started dating again?" He unknowingly dug the knife in further from the porch. She looked like she was ready to slam the door in his face. "I mean, maybe you'd feel more at ease if you got some loving from—"

"Do not finish that sentence." The former Diva warned him. He was already walking down the steps and towards his car. Knowing the mistake she was about to make, she followed him with angry footsteps. "And maybe I'd be happy to date whoever I wanted if I wasn't a single mother trying to look after my fifteen year-old son. Ever consider that?"

Chris opened his car door and then leaned his chin on it, facing her with a cheeky smile. "Ever consider that all this tension between us now is purely sexual?"

"I know you're trying to be funny but please do me a favour and don't be."

"Oh I'm remembering it now. All the crazy times we had together... that thing you did in bed that one time which was amazing... you know, when you—"

With closed fists out of her own control, she pounded against his chest, which seemed to be an amusing moment for him considering the beating was hurting her more. She stopped after a few seconds—tired and annoyed—but then pulled her house key out from the pocket of her jeans. "I've keyed your car before – what; you don't think I'll do it again?"

"Don't touch my car, Evey." There was now a warning tone in his voice as he stood upright.

"Try me."

"Is everything alright here?" Both were soon distracted by a new arrival to the conversation. Alex Riley was walking over from his own yard, gym gear on and looking sweaty from his bench press workout underneath the sweltering heat of the sun. Eve scolded herself for instantly thinking about how hot he looked. "You okay, Eve?"

"She's fine – crazy but fine." Chris answered on her behalf. "Who the hell are you?"

"I'm her neighbour. Who the hell are _you?_"

"I'm her husband."

"_Ex-husband." _Eve felt like she had to point out, even though she was aware of neither men cared for the fact. They were too busy glaring at each other. "Okay, off you go. See you later..." She didn't know which man she was talking to more.

Typically, they didn't move. Alex smirked. "Husband huh? This is the first time I've ever heard of you."

"Right back at you." Chris shut the car door behind him, while Eve rolled her eyes. "It's funny – I was just talking to Eve inside the house we used to live in _together_—"

"Used to?"

"—_And_ she never mentioned a new neighbour. Thinking about it, we were talking about new things going on in our lives... huh, you weren't involved. At all."

This was ridiculous. Eve didn't know who to feel more ashamed of—Alex for trying to play the tough guy up against her ex, or Chris for trying to pretend he still had to protect her. Eventually, she chose the latter option: Mr. Riley, after all, was the new guy around. She'd known Chris a lot longer and he was _still_ a huge idiot.

"I'm sure we've all got better things to do." She interrupted wisely. A beat later, she added something that probably shouldn't have been said. "Alex, everything really is okay. We were just arguing because Chris seems to think I want to have sex with him."

"Well—"

"Which is _not_ true." Another interruption, followed by a shake of the head. "If I wanted to have sex with someone it wouldn't be with you."

Alex grinned smugly.

"Or you."

There was a few seconds of silence. In this time, both men finally saw the sense in backing down from their silly exchange of words. The brunette caught in-between all this felt proud of herself for putting them both in their place, and made to head back inside – she did have to catch up with Logan, after all, and try to get something out of him from his time spent with Chris.

Unfortunately, she didn't see what was coming next.

"I'll be back tomorrow, Evey_._"

She froze in her steps. Damn, how had she forgotten about tomorrow? It was parent-teacher night at the school and both parents were required to attend with Logan in tow. Chris had talked earlier about it, seemingly making a big deal about 'the night out' – which she hadn't sussed out at the time. Now, it all seemed so obvious.

"And I'll see you at the weekend, Eve." Alex called out next. She turned, placing her hands on her hips. There was nothing more to it: they were both immature and stupid. "We have a poker game all set up," continued her neighbour, turning back to Chris.

There was nothing left to say to each other after that—both of their points were silently put across. They seemed to glare out at Eve though; she would have been flattered to have two guys fighting over her if she didn't think the worst of them. This was just her luck.

As her ex-husband waved to her and then got in his car, backing out of the driveway slowly, Alex turned to her. "The guy's a douche. Why were you ever with him?"

Her eyes watched as he sped off and then she faced him, rolling her eyes one more time. "I don't know – I seem to attract them a lot."

He was left looking unamused by the comment and she happily stepped back into her house, closing the door behind her. What _was_ the deal with the men in her life? At this rate, she'd never find someone to be in a healthy relationship with.

* * *

Was it possible to clean so _loudly?_

Tapping her fingernails in a steady rhythm against the kitchen counter, Layla's narrowed eyes were once again drawn to her housemaid who was dusting down the cupboards, oblivious to the silent judgement. She was trying to spy on Alex Riley, who happened to be working out in his yard, and from her window she had the perfect view.

Why did _this_ have to ruin _that?_

Cradling her lukewarm mug of coffee, she tried to focus again. Only it was impossible to do when all she could seem to think about was her ex-boyfriend. She sighed, flicking her dark glossy hair out of her eyes; when the chance to drool over man-candy was denied, it _always_ made for a bad day.

Why did John Cena have to be living right across from her anyway? Had he known about her living here on Avidian Lane? Was that the reason he'd come in the first place? The former Diva had so many questions, but knew they couldn't be answered—this alone frustrated her deeply.

"Mrs. Regal, I'm done now. Would you like to see?"

She placed her mug down and grimaced. It wasn't the thick Spanish accent confronting her that caused the reaction; it was the fact that after a year, she still couldn't stand to be called Mrs. Regal.

Putting on her favourite bitch act, she wandered over to the barely-used oven, pressed a fingertip against it and raised an eyebrow at Elissa. "I'm wearing beautiful white jeans. If there's so much as a smudge on them it's coming out of your wages."

The housewife was pleased to see the fear in her eyes as she pressed a finger against her jean-clad thigh—with John re-appearing back on the scene and into her life, and her deluded husband suddenly talking about babies, she needed someone to take her stress out on. Who better to bully than the help?

Unfortunately – at least for her – there was no mark to show for Elissa's hard work when she eventually looked down. It was with a grumble that she was 'let off the hook' and free to disappear for the rest of the day.

Now she really was in a sour mood.

She didn't think it could get any worse until her husband walked into the room, stood behind her and she was surprised by a pat on her ass. She held in a shudder—nothing good could come of this. "Shouldn't you be at work?" She addressed him calmly.

"I told you I would be taking a few days off a week – we need to get the feel of me being here more often for when the baby comes."

Layla wasn't entirely sure she needed 'the feel' of things to come but faced him with a fake smile anyway. "Whatever you say, darling."

"What's going on outside? You barely noticed me come in."

Standing on her tiptoes, she pecked William on the lips. He hardly needed to know that she was attempting to check out a man who _actually_ turned her on, did he? The wrestler seemed happy with the sudden attention sent his way, and moved in for more. "Uh, uh, uh." She quickly pressed a finger against his lips and leaned back.

"Elissa's gone – I just heard her leave." He protested. This was a very good point, she noted with frustration. "We're all alone in the house... and when you think about it, don't you want to start trying for a baby as soon as possible?"

It had the opposite effect on her. She wanted to run for the hills – or at least back to her former life of being a Diva on the road, where all she had to worry about was who was going to get their ass kicked next. Those were the days.

Still, he had that stupid dreamy look on his face again, and she had to keep her innermost thoughts to herself. "Well _of course_ I do, darling. It's just that... well..."

It shocked Layla to realize she had no alternative answer. Usually, she was an expert at lying to her husband but with all of her recent problems coming together, they blocked her from allowing her to think properly. How appalling was that?

Not entirely sure what to say next, she faked a cough and politely turned to pour herself a glass of water from the jug by the kitchen sink. It was her greatest relief to place her eyes on Emily DiBiase, who looked chirpy enough in herself – as usual – as she walked up the long driveway of the Regal household, wavy blonde hair and all.

"I made plans with Emily – you know, Maryse's daughter? She has a fashion show coming up at her school and she came to me for help since nobody else was willing to help out. What can I say? I love to help people in need..."

Perhaps she hadn't lost her touch at all.

"Well maybe after you get back then." Mr. Regal's smile was tender. "Which reminds me," he spoke up as she happily rushed to the door, "I called your doctor and cancelled the prescription for your little birth control pills."

She didn't allow herself to stop or make any wrong moves in her cloud of surprise. "Oh... you did?" At least she still had her stash upstairs.

"Yes – oh, and I threw out the ones in the upstairs bathroom."

"...Okay." This came out as more of a squeak than anything else, but her husband couldn't seem to tell. He was already making his way into the living room to look for the television remote.

Layla felt like her smile couldn't get any brighter, fake as it was. She waited for a moment or two, straightening herself out, before she answered the door to the young blonde. "Hi, Emily."

"Oh hey, Mrs. R." Emily greeted her with a smile. Perhaps she was in her own little music world inside of her head, but the teenager couldn't seem to spot the difference in mood. "I didn't know whether you were in but my mom told me to come by anyway. She wants your dress size so she can – in her own words – get to work on the bridesmaids dresses. I'm telling you, she's totally gone crazy—"

"We're going shopping!" Grabbing her car keys, and then Emily's wrist, she slammed the front door shut behind her.

"Um... okay? Is this new maniac routine contagious or something?"

The panicked adult didn't speak until she was in the car and her designer sunglasses were protecting her eyes. Backing out of the driveway quickly – with Emily already picking out a radio station in deep concentration – she finally answered, "No, it isn't. I just needed to get out of the house for a while."

"Oh, I know what you mean." The girl leaned back in her seat with a sigh. "All my parents have been doing recently is arguing. They try to hide it from me like I'm stupid or something but it just doesn't work, you know?"

Just about to speed off, Layla was caught off-guard when Alex Riley waved a hand out at her. She stopped politely—what was her hurry now anyway?—and tried to give the best smile she could.

"Hey." He sounded out of breath as he approached. "Just checking to see if you're still up for the poker game on Saturday – I know you said you might be busy. Have your plans changed?"

"They fell through." She shrugged. "I should be able to come after all."

"That's awesome." He nodded. "Well I'll let you get back to whatever it is you're doing. See you on Saturday."

"Looking forward to it!"

Her attempt at being excited was received well, but was ultimately sussed out by the girl sitting next to her as she sped off. Emily raised a suspicious eyebrow at her as they drove—eerily similar to her mother's—and opened her mouth to say, "You seem stressed."

"And that's why we're going shopping."

"I better call mom just to tell her – not that she'll wonder where I am. She's too busy choosing the shoes she's going to wear for the big day."

Layla was less than interested in Maryse's plans and focused on the road with her famous poker face as she drove to the nearest mall. She only had one thought in mind. _Oh God, what am I going to do?_

* * *

So there's the next chapter. Please review – and also, I have a new poll up on my profile page so please check it out and vote when you have the time! :)

_- In the next chapter: Tiffany tells the girls the big news, all the while avoiding her home life._


	7. Double Trouble

**The Good Life**

_AN._ Thank you to **livelaughspear, BigRedMachineUK, ThatGirl54, xsostarstruck, xHalosandwings, gabrielxdivaa, StephanieMcmahon101, xTwistedxImperfectionx,****BestyLovesMickie, WrestlingObsessedGirl **_&_ **keepthefaithx **for reviewing the last chapter.

Thanks very muchly! :)

_

* * *

_

_Chapter Seven – Double Trouble_

_

* * *

_

It was a known fact that Tiffany McIntyre (nee Terrell) liked to cook. In fact, on many occasions her house was chosen for a special day with the girls, if only to taste whatever she had baking in the oven. The newlywed was quite domesticated already in the kitchen, and she was thankful to have the gift to use whenever she pleased.

The scent that wafted through the housewives nostrils when they walked through the door this time was simply mouth-watering. Layla was the first to comment, a huge grin curving her lips upwards. "Is that banana bread I smell? Ah, it's gorgeous."

"Don't get me wrong, Tiff, I hate that you weren't able to enjoy your honeymoon for longer than two weeks... but I _love_ the fact you're back even more. Your food needs to be a slave to my taste buds more often."

"Always so eloquent, Eve." Maryse rolled her eyes playfully. She shook her head when offered a piece from the proffered plate. "I'm watching my figure – thank you, but I need to be able to fit into my dress a month from now."

"Frenchie, you're going to look thin and fabulous like you always do."

"_Latina_, I think I'll stick to my own diet. Sorry, Tiffany."

"I can honestly say I'm not offended." The young woman gave a giggle. Sitting down at the head of the kitchen table, she tried to contain her smile. It was almost impossible to do.

"You look... happy." Screw almost impossible – Layla already had her sussed out. "Well you look happier than usual, if that's even possible. Are we going to have to make you drink a few glasses of wine before you can spill all your deepest darkest secrets?"

"Remember that time we were at the bar, a couple of weeks after she got engaged, and she was so ashamed to admit to that little crush she had on Evan Bourne when she started out—"

"That she drank three apple martinis and had sips of our drinks—"

"Until she was brave enough to say it out loud!"

As the girls laughed and let out the occasional _"It was so adorable" _comment, the blonde rolled her eyes. The downside to being the sweetest housewife of the bunch was also being the shyest. "Okay, we all remember it – moving on please?"

"Sorry." Maryse sobered first, giving a cheeky smile that suggested the topic might be brought up again later. "Were you going to tell us something?"

"Yeah sorry, Tiff. Go ahead."

"Thank you, Lay – and I really don't think I'll need a glass of wine for this conversation. In fact," she could barely hold her grin for any longer, "I won't be able to drink alcohol considering I'm pregnant... with twins..."

Well that certainly shut them up. At least it did for a few moments of stunned silence until they were jumping up from their seats and engulfing her in a big group hug. Trapped in the middle, Tiffany couldn't tell one comment from the other and eventually had to tell them to settle down, giggling all the while.

With wide eyes, Eve looked far from troubled about her love life issues. Sitting around the table with the girls again, she leaned forward and rested her weight on her elbows. "So how far along are you?"

"About eleven weeks, nearly twelve – I went for a scan at St. Andrews a couple of days ago and Katy, my doctor, told me. Insane, isn't it?" She bit down on her bottom lip as the other three stared back with warm smiles. "It's just... twins... wow."

"You know we're happy for you. So, so happy." Layla moved forwards and pressed a hand over Tiffany's briefly. "This is big news – double trouble, huh? How did Drew take the news?"

The question was bound to be brought up into the conversation at some point. Having trained herself for this moment, she kept up the perfect smile, feeling slightly sick – and not from expected nausea – as she lied to the group and said, "Let's just say we _celebrated_. Twice."

"I bet you did," smirked Maryse.

The memory of crawling into bed, her face tear-stained, was refreshed in her mind but she quickly shoved it out. This was neither the time nor the place. "And you know what?" She decided to move on to a brighter subject. "I think I'm already starting to feel some of the symptoms."

"You've certainly got the glow about you," said Eve, at the same time Layla commented, "Oh, you poor thing."

Mrs. Regal was turned to with a mixed reaction of amusement and disbelief. "What?" The former Diva defended herself, half pouting to get them on her side. "Like I said, I'm really happy for you... I just... kids _to me_ are..." The sentence was finished with an almighty shudder.

"Anyway, carrying on the conversation about the _demon children_ growing inside of you right now..." Maryse rolled her eyes in Layla's direction, and then settled for another smile. "So, what symptoms are you going through?"

"Well I've felt tender for the past couple of days, there's the usual morning sickness... except it seems to be any time in the day sickness, and my sexual drive has increased. _Considerably._" It hadn't – rather the opposite, but it sounded like a good cover for Tiffany and their crumbling marriage.

"Oh, I know what you mean. I remember when I was pregnant with Emily and I just couldn't get enough of Ted. Back then it was just... God, so sexy."

There was a moment of silence as they all stared at the blonde, who seemed to be staring at the wall herself, a faint smirk curving her glossed lips. Eve waved a hand in front of her face to distract her. "Back then? Don't tell me the Million Dollar Couple aren't so active anymore? From what I remember back in our wrestling days—and trust me, I do remember because you'd never stop telling me—you guys were at it. Like rabbits. Yeah, that was the exact term."

"Nothing has changed." The blonde shrugged, leaning back in her seat and acting casual. It was a good thing she could work wonders with a lie. "Unless you want to hear about it. We do have the parent-teacher conference tonight. I could tell you on the car ride over."

"Oh, don't remind me. Chris has promised to come and pick me up ten minutes early – as if that will magically get him on my good side."

"Don't worry. If things between you get unexpectedly friendly, we'll always be here to remind you what a mega douchebag he is."

"I appreciate it, Lay."

"It would be my pleasure to demean him for you. Guys are always the enemy, remember?" A brief image of John Cena flashed into her thoughts, proving her right. Perhaps it wasn't his fault that he was the enemy, messing with her emotions and such, but he _was_ the enemy. "But back to Tiff. We can talk about our men anytime we like but we've just found out about twins..."

"I'm still trying hard to take it in myself."

And she was. As the four chatted away, impressive at wasting decent amounts of time, Tiffany had an inner battle with herself. How much longer could she hold in her secret? How long would it be before she had to confront the issues between herself and Drew? Better yet, how long would she have until _the talk_ with her husband became inevitable to have?

It was a comment from Layla when they were clearing up empty dishes that made her stop for a moment to think. "I am really happy for you, Tiff. I know you girls think I hate children... but I get the feeling yours are going to be precious." She grinned. "Just think: you and Drew are going to become a proper family. That's got to be special."

"Special. It sure is," replied Tiffany, smiling back, but only briefly.

Of course it was special – just not in the right way.

* * *

"Well... this is pure torture."

Standing at the back of her son's massive school gym with Ted DiBiase, Eve happily ignored the disgusted looks coming from the other parents due to her loud comment. She had no problem being her normal self, and not conforming to the expectations of the rich and famous surrounding her.

Smirking, Ted nodded his agreement. "You're right." Unscrewing the lid of a bottle of water he'd brought with him, he waited a moment, speaking first, before he took a sip. "Maryse looks like she's about to kill the teacher... or Emily."

Both trained their eyes on the housewife for a moment, taking in her posture. Though she had her back turned, it was clear to see that Maryse was in a foul mood while she tapped her foot against the ground and her fingers against her arms where she had them folded across her chest.

"That's just Maryse." The brunette laughed. "Do you think Mr. Brookstein is telling her that Emily's only averaging a _B_ in Math?"

"God forbid she isn't the highest scoring girl in class." He nudged Eve lightly, and then laughed. "What about Chris?" They moved their focus slightly to the right, where her ex-husband looked to be in deep conversation with their child's English teacher. As usual, Logan looked bored, sneaking peeks at Emily every so often. "Maybe Miss. Flowers is telling him he's doing exceptionally well and Chris is discussing which present would be more suitable for the occasion."

"That's actually spot on. He's either thinking about his next gift or wondering if she's smart enough to know he's a man-whore and, if not, whether he should ask her out..."

They exchanged a smile, knowing that without their partners in crime they were allowed to have this witty sort of repertoire. Despite being involved in feuds over the WWE years—Ted and Maryse vs. R-Truth and Eve most often—the two had built up a friendship when he decided to propose to Maryse. With Ted trying to plan the perfect engagement, and Eve and Maryse's feud having simmered down to them almost being friends at the time, he figured she would know everything about the woman. And she did.

Years on, they were able to rely on each other for such things like this. It was nice to have a break from the serious things in life.

This next topic, however, was verging on just that: seriousness. "Hey, is everything okay with you and Maryse?" Eve ventured, feeling slightly cautious for doing so. "She hasn't said anything obviously... but that's sort of the problem. She doesn't really talk about you as much as she used to."

"We're fine – we just go through our rough patches sometimes, you know?" He felt comfortable talking about it. Shrugging, he added, "She's probably too busy talking about the wedding to think about me though."

She was able to nod before Maryse and Emily made their way over. "That is true," she said discreetly. "Everything okay?" This comment was aimed at the new arrivals.

"Mother seems to think a B plus is not a suitable grade." Emily rolled her eyes, but was instantly reprimanded for the gesture. "Dad – or even you, Eve – could you please try to get through to her and tell her I'm trying my best?"

Not entirely listening, Maryse shook her head. "I just can't figure out why your grades aren't better. Is it because Logan sits in front of you? Are you distracted by him?"

Eve tried not to laugh. She loved her son to pieces, but it was fairly obvious that Emily didn't share the desire he had for her.

"Please don't take this the wrong way, Ms. T—" The young girl held her hands up in defence at her mother's friend. "—but _eww._"

"No offense taken. I better go, Chris is calling me over. Wish me luck."

"Good luck." Ted smiled, watching her leave... and then turned into the unamused expression belonging to his wife. "What?" He grimaced.

"Try to care, Ted. I just told you she's averaging a B—_a B—_and you didn't even flutter an eyelash."

"Why would Dad flutter an eyelash?" Emily laughed, earning a quick high-five from her father.

Maryse remained undeterred, at least until he finally decided to answer her. "Hon, would you calm down? She's not failing, and I'm guessing she's doing well in her classes. Now what's next? Can we hurry this along so I can get an early night?"

"Oh sure, don't worry about your daughter's future. You should be more concerned with your own."

"Mom, chill. Okay? I don't mean to take Dad's side – well yeah, I actually do – but he _does need_ an early night. He's going away on tour tomorrow, remember?"

"To the UK. Yes, I remember." The former Diva gave a strict smile. "How could I forget when it's all he ever talks about? And won't it just be wonderful for your father to wake up tomorrow and realize he gets two whole weeks away from us?"

While Emily rolled her eyes, walking away to go and talk to her friends, Ted stared at her in disbelief. "Since when do you think that I'm looking forward to going away?"

Once again it had happened. A subject that had nothing to do with their unsteady marriage but paralleled in emotions had been brought up, and traded for the former topic.

She shook her head, blonde extensions twirling with her and then reframing around her face. "I know you don't like being around me anymore. You complain about the wedding arrangements I'm making for _us_... and you always talk about work like it's the most important thing in the world."

"I married you because _you're _the most important thing in the world to me – you and Emily. You're my family." She failed to answer, not quite forgiving enough, and he shook his head. "But wrestling is one of my greatest passions. WWE is my family, too."

"I gave it up for love."

Silence fell over them for longer than necessary. When she looked up at him again, she was surprised to see an emotion she hadn't registered before on his face: pure anger. He'd been frustrated at her before, maybe even disappointed... but nothing like this. "You keep giving me that sentence and it's like one comment of destruction. You _know_ I can't possibly compete with it – and it pisses me off that you're making yourself look better by making me seem like I don't care. You know I do; you just always have to be the centre of attention."

"That's a lie."

"I really don't think it is." He shook his head again. Backing away, Ted seemed stuck for words. Eventually he gave up. "We have to see the World History teacher next. Are you coming or am I doing this solo?"

"I'm used to being 'solo', so maybe you should be too."

He didn't answer; transfixed, he noticed something in her eyes. He thought it was the reflection of something shiny at first but slowly came to the realization that there were tears in her eyes. Real, proper tears. Something tugged at him but his pride came first, causing him to come out with, "You're really putting on the act tonight, aren't you? Fine, I'll go on my own. One more to go and then we can go back home. Happy?"

"Happy? Of course I'm not. You should know that." She stuttered in the middle of her sentence, having to catch her breath after the emotions threatened to choke her. Maryse glanced upwards briefly, towards the ceiling, shaking her head slightly. This was just perfect. "Hurry up. The sooner we leave here, the sooner you can go to sleep and wake up nice and early to catch your flight tomorrow."

With nothing left to say, she slipped through the throngs of people, unwilling to stop and make small talk with some of the parents she knew well. The fire exit was open and she quietly made her exit. After spotting a trail of benches alongside the back of the building, she took her pick of the nearest one and simply sat there.

The weather tonight was chillier than usual. This didn't seem to bother her as she swallowed down her fear and straightened out her winter coat; no matter of the way she was feeling, it was always mandatory to look the part. This was the one straightforward rule of Maryse Ouellet's: it was crucial to keep up appearances.

Emily found her mother outside just five minutes later. She could tell that this certain appearance wasn't okay and, taking a seat beside her, she struggled with the option of holding her hand to show her support or not. She eventually decided on not. "Tell the truth, Mom." Staring ahead, the teenager let out a breath in the cold air; it formed in a small cloud in front of her and then dispersed just as quickly. "Even with this second wedding stuff going on... are you and Dad happy together?"

The answer was simple. Unexpected for Maryse's character but simple. "No. We're definitely not, Emily."

And it was in that moment that Emily DiBiase showed her compassion—usually such a Daddy's girl—and pushed her smaller hand into her mother's, wrapping her fingers around Maryse's.

* * *

So there's the next chapter. Please review :)

_- In the next chapter: Layla runs into John at the local wrestling centre, while Maryse and Mike form a strange bond. _


	8. Do I Trust You?

**The Good Life**

_AN._ Thank you to **VanityMayhem, BigRedMachineUK, xHalosandwings, keepthefaithx, xsostarstruck, Cena-Wilson-Crazy, xTwistedxImperfectionx, gabrielxdivaa **_& _**bathpinkdog** for reviewing the last chapter.

Thanks very muchly! :)

* * *

_Chapter Eight - Do I Trust You?  
_

* * *

While the cat's away, the mice will play. Was that the correct saying?

Stepping out into the perfect sunshine again, hands full with new shopping bags, Layla El Regal realized she didn't care. Only a proud smirk was seen on her face while she made her way back to the convertible, her eyes hidden behind huge designer shades; to any person of the public she looked like the average shopaholic.

But how were they to know she was celebrating the sudden absence of her darling husband?

It almost seemed heartless to remember yesterday evening – when a phone call 'ruined' an impromptu love making session, leading to Mr. Regal finding out he was a last addition to the UK tour – and think back on it with such glee. He'd muttered about how being away for two weeks messed with their baby making plans, even if it did mean a trip back home, while she'd tried not to smile too happily at her new found control.

And today was just the start of a glorious fourteen day vacation from her marriage. Shopping first, an expensive lunch with girlfriends next... and then who knew? All that mattered was the fact she could do whatever she wanted. The world was her oyster.

After placing her belongings in the back seat, the housewife slipped behind the wheel, taking a moment to check her reflection out in the mirror. Just as she suspected – she looked absolutely radiant.

Instead of driving away in silence with only the sounds of the outside world to entertain her, she decided that today would be a good day for the radio to be on. The newest Rihanna track blared out at her and she instantly beamed; if there was any trace of her former Diva self, she would be dancing by now, freeing her spirits and simply letting loose to the beat of the music.

But she reminded herself she shouldn't, and allowed only her fingers to tap in rhythm against the steering wheel.

She'd only been driving back in the direction of home for a couple of minutes when something caught her eye. Layla didn't know what she was doing until after she'd done it – and even turning around and heading back to the familiar building, she wasn't sure she'd meant to. She bit down on her bottom lip as she pulled to a stop in the parking lot, not entirely sure if she could trust herself anymore.

Locking the car behind her, she took curious steps towards the doors, and then opened one, slipping inside. Though the view wasn't anything new, her eyes took in every detail over and over again – eventually, a faint smile curved her lips. She hadn't meant to come here at all... or even thought about this place in the last few months... but this visit seemed long overdue.

The local wrestling centre. Oh, the stories she could tell about this place... Had it really been only a couple of years ago that she was here, training her ass off, utterly excited about getting a call-up to the Smackdown roster for WWE? Wow, time flew... and looking to the ring she trained in now...

Her smile dropped. Her heart felt like it had plummeted, a funny little beat taking over in all its irregularity. Layla felt she was good at expecting things, but this week had clearly been too much for her; first, her husband decided they were to have children... and now her ex-boyfriend was a matter of inches away from her, sweat dripping down his bare chest as he worked out.

Was it completely wrong to instantly imagine herself in there with him, working up a sweat, not entirely to do with a training session? … Yes, it was, she decided.

But that didn't stop her.

Wiping the sweat from his brow, John Cena looked exhausted but pumped, and threw the hand towel onto the top turnbuckle of the ring with an impressive aim. In his attempt, his deep blue eyes caught the sight of his ex-lover from a near distance and he stared – confused in the moment – until it registered that this was someone he didn't particularly like. "What are you doing here?" He asked. A beat later, he shook his head. "Didn't think wrestling was your thing anymore."

"I didn't know it was still yours," answered the former Diva, unsure of starting a conversation but unable to stop herself from contributing. She walked forwards and slowly walked up the metal steps. "You still hoping to make it big?"

She knew she shouldn't have said that—now, painfully, the memories of a former time were coming up and threatening to make this meet even more awkward than it had to be.

He saw the look on her face – the unmistakable wince she gave after she asked the question. John laughed bitterly. "Regretting saying that now, aren't you? Considering you made the promise that it was me and you 'til the end.. that we'd be famous together in the 'biz... you must be feeling pretty—"

"Okay, okay. Can you not make this a big deal please?"

"God, you haven't changed at all." Grabbing his shirt, he looked around for the rest of his belongings. He soon found them, right beside the woman he was talking to. "First nobody can know about us – to protect you – and now you don't want to deal with the guilt you're feeling. Great, Layla. Just great." He slid out in-between the ropes, avoiding her altogether, and made a swipe for his things. "Or should I say Mrs. Regal?"

She caught him roll his eyes before he made to leave. Unable to let him go without at least saying something, she pressed a hand against his muscular chest, throwing herself in front of him to stop him from leaving. He glanced down at the sudden contact and then removed her from him. "What can I do to prove to you how sorry I am for what happened?"

"_Prove_ to me? You don't get it, do you?" John walked ahead suddenly and she fought to keep up with him. "I could never forgive you for what you did – in fact, I'm gonna head home and sometime in this week I'm going to see you again... see you with _him_... and I'm going to be reminded of why I hate you so much."

"You can't... you can't honestly hate me... right?" But by now, even she knew the answer to this question. Flicking her dark locks out of her eyes, she tried to look like the authority figure. "And for your information, you won't be seeing him for at least two weeks. He left for the UK tour this morning. It'll just be me you'll have to glare at instead. Happy?"

The way she was staring at him now reminded him of why he fell for her in the first place. Layla El always stood her ground – despite her less than intimidating height – and he'd admired her for it. Watching her from home every Friday evening, seeing her strut her way down the ramp with such confidence, really mesmerized him. Before he knew it, John was hooked on the girl.

And now...

Despite the hatred he felt for her, there was still an underlying passion there. He'd reached his car by now. He'd been about to open the door before she stepped in front of him, hands on hips and determined to be noticed. Even behind those shades she wore, he could tell her eyes sent the same message. And – once again – he was hooked. She was something special alright.

Pulling himself together, he pushed her aside, uncaring of his actions, and slammed the door shut behind him once he was behind the wheel. He waited for just a moment before he revved up the engine to let her know he was planning to back out and, if she didn't want to be run over, it would be a wise idea to move out of the way.

Layla could only watch as he drove off in the opposite direction she was supposed to be heading in. She felt like things between them were unfinished... like there was so much more to be talked about. These short little hatred-filled moments were unsatisfactory, to say the very least.

Would there be a chance to talk to him again while her husband was gone?

Mrs. Regal certainly hoped so, surprising herself a little as she made her way back to her own car. In the driver's seat again, she took a moment to simply be.

Something had to change in their relationship. It had taken her too long to make amends—if it were possible to after all she'd put him through—but perhaps this was a fresh start to sort things out. Properly and truly.

Nothing was impossible really, was it?

* * *

What's the point of telling someone to come round for a gossip if you're not going to be there in the first place?

Maryse clicked her tongue in irritation, turning away from Layla's closed door with a sharp twist; she'd been standing there for at least five minutes and coming up with feasible excuses as to why her continued knocking had no desired effect on her friend. There was no delayed answer due to being in the hot tub and having her music on loud... there was no delayed answer due to being in the training session and listening to her iPod... so where the hell could she be?

In all honesty, the French-Canadian woman felt like she needed someone to talk to and a shoulder to cry on. Now, Layla couldn't even be that rock for her, and she was her last hope. The person she would usually go to for such advice—her closest friend on the street, Eve—wasn't around, and Tiffany had told her over the phone she planned to have a romantic day out with her new husband... so who did that leave?

_No-one._ She thought to herself dejectedly, making her way down from the porch and back onto the long path out of the household area. _I wish I didn't feel so alone._

She hadn't planned to tell any of the girls about her marital problems; no, she was far too proud for that. The former Diva would have gone on about one of her wedding preparations and how terrible things were going – despite the fact she made sure every day that everything was under control. It was a simple problem, although not hers, that would allow her to release some of the emotion she had pent up inside of her.

Because why would she want to suffer the embarrassment of telling them about how she and Ted _weren't _perfect? Why would she want them to know he'd left early for the tour this morning—kissing Emily on the forehead while she slept soundly—and not said goodbye to her at all?

Folding her arms across her chest, creasing her dark red dress and not caring a damn bit, Maryse wondered what the next step from here was. There would be no making it down the aisle for them again if their issues weren't sorted out... but where to start? Was it possible to fix what wasn't obviously broken?

For the first time in her life, she was out of her comfort zone, with no alternative answer or idea to get her out of her predicament...

"Hi there, Mrs. DiBiase."

About to head back in the direction of her own house, ready to wallow in her own self-pity, Maryse didn't have to be a genius to know who the cheeky tone confronting her belonged to. She turned – out of boredom, she guessed – and gave a polite smile to The Miz, who had a grin to go along with his playful attitude.

"So, how is it that every time I see you, you always seem to be in a bad mood?"

"Have you ever considered it's you?" She retorted, and then immediately regretted it. It wasn't his fault that she was in a sour mood – what had he ever done to her except beat her at poker? "I'm sorry, I'm having another bad day... and it's not Mrs. DiBiase," she added after remembering his greeting, "You can just call me Miss. Ouellet."

"Okay... so, _Miss. Ouellet_..." He checked the road seperating them for any coming cars and found none; while he crossed, she couldn't seem to help the smile that touched her lips at the sight of his. He came across as such a... fun-loving person. It was a nice breath of fresh air, to be honest. "Are you going to take me up on my offer?"

Unintentionally, she took a step back when he stopped in front of her. He was fun-loving, yes, but also a little overbearing. "… Excuse me?"

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but you looked... what's the word?... _panicked _just now. Like you really need to talk to someone. And I did say before that if you ever needed someone to talk to, I'd be here." He pointed to himself, as if his point hadn't been made clear enough. "What do you say?"

"I say... what makes you think I'm about to tell the perfect stranger all about my life and the problems in it?" Maryse arched her brow.

"Oh, c'mon, I'm not that bad. I look fairly normal, don't I?"

She looked him up and down, making a point not to smile. He was playing the charmer act on her and it was definitely working. He did look 'fairly normal' actually, dressed in a pair of dark jeans and a casual shirt that showed off his muscles... okay, maybe he looked better than 'fairly normal' after all...

Moving on swiftly from her judgement, she shook her head. "Did you realize that when you said I could talk to you, I didn't exactly say I would. You're just a guy... you're just this new guy, a new neighbour, who moved here a few days ago... I couldn't talk to you."

"Why? What do you think I would do – tell everyone? Because what would I have achieved if I did that? Huh?" Mike shrugged at her. "Maryse, I'm just interested to know about you. You seem... different to everyone else. I like that."

Different? While she couldn't see it for herself, she decided to trust his words—her gut instinct was that he was telling the truth now. And he _was _kind of charming...

"Well trust me when I say you wouldn't want to know anything about me. I'm more complicated than you think."

"And that's what intrigues me." Miz nudged her slightly and gave her a sincere smile. "I'm not trying to get into your panties. I'm not trying to get closer to you to sleep with you. I'm aware that you're happily married, you have a teenage daughter and life for you here is perfect. I'm not trying to change your mind on anything. I just... I just want you to get to know me. We could be friends. That's all I want... honestly."

Mike looked so innocent as he stared at her, waiting for her answer.

And wouldn't it be nice to let out her feelings and not be judged for it, but offered unbiased points of views? All she would be doing by heading home was burying herself so deeply into emotions inside, but never really telling her story on the outside; what good would that do? Maybe talking to him would give her some sort of release... some sort of moment to relax her doubts and just be.

A moment later, Maryse decided she must be going crazy. "Is anyone over at your place?"

"No. John is at the wrestling centre, and I think Alex is at work. He's got crazy hours at the hospital right now so we barely see him... why'd you ask?"

Grabbing his hand, she pulled him towards his empty house, hurrying as if they were carrying out some sort of elicit affair rather than a risky conversation. She heard him chuckle from behind her and only dragged him around some more.

Once inside, she let go of him and he led her into the kitchen, settling down next to her at the poker table. It seemed as safe a place as any to talk.

"I'm asking because what I'm about to tell you can never be heard by anybody else. Oh God, I can't believe I'm doing this... I must be mad."

"I swear I won't tell a soul."

She bit down on her bottom lip briefly, meddling with the little voices in her head telling her not to spill her deepest secrets, which Mike thought was sexy enough but failed to mention. Eventually, she let out a weary, small sigh. "Well... you know what you were saying about my perfect marriage? I don't think that's true at all..."

* * *

So there's the next chapter. Please review :)

_- In the next chapter: While Logan and Emily are left alone in her house for the evening, the housewives of Avidian Lane play another game of poker with the guys, where Alex and Eve make risky bets against each other..._


	9. A Bet Made In Heaven

**The Good Life**

_AN._ Thank you to **livelaughspear, getcraazysofia, sophia0401, DiivaLover, VanityMayhem, xSiimplyCrazeedx, xHalosandwings, KyraJane, ThatGirl54, xsostarstruck, Cena-Wilson-Crazy, bathpinkdog, xTwistedxImperfectionx, Nadia26, gabrielxdivaa, MizaniansGirl**_ & _**keepthefaithx **for reviewing the last chapter.

Thanks very muchly! :)

* * *

_Chapter Nine – A Bet Made In Heaven_

* * *

Despite only being at the Mizanin/Riley household for the second time, it felt like a natural occurrence for the girls to walk up the pathway, towards the porch, and discuss possible tactics for the poker game until someone decided to answer the door.

Tiffany was notably absent, having rung Layla a few hours beforehand and explained about the morning sickness being too much and calling for a rain-check while she recovered in bed. The British woman had felt sympathetic towards her – telling Drew to take proper care of her – before hanging up.

Eve had been all too happy to attend, however, after running into Mike yesterday and being told that Alex would have to work on the Saturday evening they were due to come over. The brunette's smile grew considerably after that little gem of information.

"Hey ladies, right on time."

... And now her smile, oh so pretty on a night like this, completely disappeared.

"What are you doing here?"

The company turned to her with strange expressions, but none stranger than Alex, who leaned against the doorway to reply. "The last time I checked I lived here."

"Are you feeling alright, Eve?"

She ignored Maryse's smirk, and pointed a finger at the man in question. "Mike said you wouldn't be here. He said something about the hospital needing you for the whole night."

"Well sorry to burst your bubble – as it turns out, they don't need me after all."

"But... but I've seen _Grey's Anatomy!_ They always need people on the night shift."

"That's why I have my beeper with me," said Alex, thoroughly amused as he ushered everybody inside. "And sorry, but did you just compare my life to a television drama?"

"You clearly don't know Eve well enough. She lives vicariously through her television screen." The French-Canadian woman beside her laughed. "You name a show and she's watched it."

"That's... disturbing."

While the others agreed, the Latina didn't, but thought it would be too childish to carry on with the discussion; instead, she stuck her tongue out at his back.

"So," began Layla after seeing the gesture and shaking her head, "Is John around tonight too?"

"He's got a smoking hot date actually." Mike answered with a smirk as he appeared behind them suddenly, fresh from the kitchen. "Beer anyone?"

The housewife itched to know more about her ex-lover's evening, and luckily Eve was on hand to ask while she collected her beverage. "Good for him. Anyone special?"

"This girl he met at the wrestling centre the other day – Courtney something, I think."

"Sounds like a whore's name." Everybody turned to Layla in unison, bewildered. She faked a big smile and took a beer from Mike's hand. "So, poker game anyone?"

The group made their way into the entertainments room, and failed to notice Mike usher Maryse in by placing a tender hand on the small of her back. The gesture was intimate and she noticed straightaway, edging slightly away as she made to take a seat opposite him. She didn't know what was worse: the fact she hadn't been touched by her husband in that way for quite some time, or that The Miz had actually got her a little bit buzzed.

Layla chose to place herself next to the host – Alex Riley – himself, who she'd learned was quite the master at the game from last time. Though not bad herself, it wouldn't hurt to lean on someone when the going got tough.

Now that the seats had been taken up, taking away one chair for an absent John Cena, the set-up looked a little different. Most notably, Eve and Alex sat directly opposite from one another and had no choice but to look at each more often than none.

"I thought we'd make things interesting tonight. Raise the stakes a bit, I mean."

Raising a perfectly plucked eyebrow at Mr. Riley, the doctor to be, Maryse had to ask one question in particular. "It's not strip poker is it?" Both he and Mike looked at her challengingly and she was obliged to explain. "I got duped into it once in college. I still remember that awful night."

"Let me guess: you agreed to it but none of the guys did?"

"How did you know?"

The Miz laughed, shaking his head. "It's a classic move. Guys are dicks in college. They'll do anything to see a girl's clothes on their bedroom floor."

"In college? Guys are dicks _all the time._"

"We're personally offended, Eve."

"You really shouldn't be." Layla glanced in-between the guys. "She has a personal vendetta against everyone with the Y chromosome. Blame it on the ex-husband."

"Or," the brunette shrugged, "Blame it on guys being dicks." And with that said, she took a huge slug of her beer, placing it back down on the table with a loud thud.

"Noted." Alex chuckled. A beat later, he added, "So this might make my suggestion seem a little... difficult for you then."

She narrowed her eyes at him, somewhat intrigued. "What suggestion might you be offering?"

"It's not so much of an offer – or a suggestion really – than a challenge. A bet. I noticed last week that you're good at the game. _Almost_ as good as I am." Before she could splutter an argument against that 'almost' emphasized by him, he moved on hastily. "Here's the deal: I think you like me, Eve Torres, and you just don't want to admit it. So I'm making a bet with you right here and now. If I win a special game with you, we go out on a date and I get to prove to you what amazing boyfriend material I could be..."

"And _when_ I win?"

"No date. Simple as that."

"And you promise never to ask me out on a date?"

"Ah, I can't promise that." He smirked at her. She noticed the way he started to eye her up and down, just like he did when they first, and sighed loudly. That brought his attention back to her face. "So what do you say?"

Eve hadn't realized the attention their little conversation was getting. Both Maryse and Layla looked amused as they stared at their girlfriend, waiting for an answer—it was already obvious to them what the answer would be, knowing the woman could never back down from a challenge like this, especially when she had the chance to humiliate a member of the opposite sex.

"No answer yet?" Mike cut through the silence. He reached for the pack of cards in the middle. "You've got about five seconds to make up your mind... tick tock..."

The former Diva glanced at him, noticing his curious look, and then narrowed her eyes back on Alex Riley. He sure did look smug sitting there. He was probably thinking he had her beat already... "Okay," she shrugged as nonchalantly as she could. "It's a deal."

* * *

Logan had only been in Emily's room a handful of times, but on this particular occasion, he realized this had to be the longest he'd stayed there. The other moments had been just that: moments in which he only stopped by to either give her the answers to their homework or tell her that Tyler was outside his house in the car, feigning friendship with him for long enough so she could escape through her bedroom window, race across the perfect lawn, and ride off into the night...

Sat comfortably on her double bed, a mountain of pillows propped up behind his head, the teenager had his eyes trained on the television screen ahead while he played an old Smackdown vs. Raw game on the Xbox. He was currently playing as Ted DiBiase and beating The Undertaker to a bloody pulp – and just how cool was it to go to town on a legendary character?

"So what about this one?" Strutting back into the room from her en-suite bathroom, Emily glanced down at the little black dress she'd just changed into. "Do you think Tyler will like it? Is it appropriate for a school dance?"

"I think your Dad is a kick-ass player in this game. Oh, and here comes your mom to distract 'Taker—excellent move to pair them up together. Not that I need the advantage but I'll take it."

The blonde rolled her eyes at the virtual figures of her parents on the screen, and then turned back to the guy she was forced to call her school friend. "I'll be sure to call Daddy right away and tell him to add you to his ass-kissing list. Now will you pay attention to me? I have to find the perfect dress!"

"And he's down for the three count! _Yeeeeah!_" Logan did a ridiculous celebration, dropping the controller and fist pumping the air. It was clear that he was having a good time this evening. "Come on Emz, you know you want to celebrate with me. I just beat one of the most..."

"Stop being such a nerd!" She smacked his floppy brown head of hair. When he obediently sat back down, rolling his own eyes, she scoffed. "I'm sorry, but am I wasting your time? I know our Moms wanted us to spend time together so we don't get in trouble—"

"So _you _don't get in trouble."

"—But that means playing by my rules, especially when we're in my house. So will you just give me an opinion – not that yours matters – on my outfits? Please? And don't call me Emz." She added with a huff a moment later. "You haven't called me that since we were kids."

Logan sighed as he moved back into his comfortable position and looked her up and down. The black dress fitted her perfectly, stopping at a daring mid-thigh level. She played around with her hair while he made his decision; he had to stop and swallow lightly when she left her golden locks to cascade down her back freely.

Then, just a few seconds later, he looked away, shrugging nonchalantly.

"That's not an answer." By now she was angry. What couldn't he just tell her what he thought? She'd tried on at least ten different outfits and each had the same nonplussed, uncaring reaction. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

He ignored her, starting a new game. This time he allowed the game to simulate a make-believe match, and almost laughed when it came up with the option to play the virtual Eve Torres. _Yeah right._ He landed on William Regal next and shrugged to himself—the man was a legend in his own right.

"All I want to know is if I look okay." Emily shoved him. The move was harsh, but she was impatient and... well, in a very bad mood. "I swear one day I'm going to hurt—"

"What do you want me to tell you?" The screen faded to black, preparing for the match to begin by putting on a 'Now Loading' logo, but the guy didn't care. His focus was solely on her as she stepped back, surprised by the sudden intensity of it all. "That you look beautiful? Because you do, Emily. But I always think you look beautiful no matter what you wear, so my opinion doesn't really count for anything does it? And it's not me who you want to impress."

"Logan, calm down."

"It's Tyler who you feel the need to dress up for and change for." He shook his head. "And I doubt right now that me calling you beautiful will make you feel better about yourself because – ultimately – he's not even going to think of the word when he's with you. He'll call you sexy or something stupid you find endearing just because he's older, can drive and is just _so cool._ He'll barely notice the way you light up a room when you walk into it, how you're the most beautiful girl in school or how much you could mean to him if he treated you right."

The teenager stood up at this point, running his hands through his shaggy hair. What on earth had possessed him to say all of that? For so long he'd kept his inner thoughts inside—definitely the wisest thing to do—and now everything had just bubbled out, threatening an already unsteady friendship. Fantastic.

Emily stared at him. She appeared, for once, stuck for words.

"I'm going to get something to drink from the kitchen. Do you want anything?"

She shook her head and tied her hair back into a loose ponytail. Just as he was leaving, she wandered into the bathroom, shutting the door gently behind her. He lingered in the doorway for a moment or two—eventually, Emily began to sing quietly, something he knew she did when trying to block something that was troubling her out of her mind.

She sounded beautiful.

_Nice one, dickhead. _He almost hit himself as he made it downstairs, two steps at a time, and into the kitchen. He reached for a glass from the cupboard and poured some orange juice from the fridge in it. _You could have just gone without saying a single thing... but no, somewhere in your thick head, you decided to tell the truth._

He was still cursing himself when he made it back up to her bedroom. Logan was surprised when she faced him, a black and pink creation framing her body wonderfully now, and asked, "What's this?"

"A new dress. What do you think?" She queried, devoid of emotion. So she was avoiding the moment now – like it hadn't happened?

Well fine. Two could play at that game. "You look good." He nodded.

* * *

"Do you think they're done out there yet?"

"I don't know. It's only been ten minutes – they could have another twenty in them."

"Oh God, I hope not." Maryse rolled her eyes at Mike as they moved around in the kitchen, helping themselves to various drinks and snacks. Layla stood by the door, peering through at the poker game contestants. "I don't know how much more I can take of this."

"Come on, Maryse, this is Eve we're talking about. She likes a challenge as much as the next girl." The British woman glanced at her briefly. "Though it actually looks like the game is winding down now."

"Finally." The former Diva's Champion smiled. It was fun being over here at the household she'd come to know recently—thanks to the outburst about her failing marriage to the guy standing opposite her—but when she only got to play one game before Alex and Eve decided they had to play theirs, things soon became stale. "This will either go very well for us or..."

"Can you _believe_ I have to go out on a date with him?" Bursting into the kitchen, the raging brunette didn't seem to notice how she'd almost squashed Layla against the wall. "I had a full house – I had him beat! And then... and then... and a _royal flush_ of all the... we're leaving now!"

The other housewives snickered – Layla even made a mental note to ring Tiffany up tomorrow and tell her all about Eve's disaster of an evening – while they collected their things. Maryse hugged Mike goodbye, their embrace lingering for a little too long, and cleared her throat as she shuffled out towards the door behind the other girls.

"So you were talking earlier about how you were free on Tuesday evening? Pick you up at seven then?" Alex Riley's smirk was overbearing as he leaned against the door, Eve brushing past him in a cloud of sweet perfume and ruffled dark locks.

"Whatever!" Her answer was immature, but so was her way out as she stomped down the porch steps.

"I can't wait to tell our kids the story of how I finally captured your heart. And to think, it all started when I won a bet in a poker game!"

Though it was dark, Alex was certain she flipped him off after raising her arm up high in the air. He only chuckled to himself, watching her let herself back into her house angrily, and then shut the door behind him to clear up after the very successful – on his part – evening.

Maryse and Layla allowed themselves a moment more of laughter at their friend's expense, already excited for Wednesday morning to arrive so they could rush over and see how the date went, before they decided to say their goodnights.

While the blonde made her way home to tell Logan it was time to go and to spend some time with her daughter, Layla arrived back to her house solo. She leaned against the door for a moment or two – her house completely quiet apart from the odd whir of the light on above her in the landing – and then picked herself back up, dumping her things down on the kitchen counter.

Though it was wonderful to be without her husband for two whole weeks, she was also quite lonely. It wasn't that she wished William Regal was back here, if only to provide her with some entertainment—oh God no, how could he possibly do that?—but she wanted someone to be around so she didn't have to sleep alone. Someone who didn't make her skin crawl...

Courtney.

Layla picked a few grapes from their storks in a sharp swipe, showing her brand new mood off easily. It had been simmering for the past few hours, but now that she was alone it was better to let her emotions out.

The fact that she was still jealous of John Cena and his freedom without her told her one simple thing.

She needed him back. Pronto.

* * *

So there's the next chapter. Please review :)

_- In the next chapter: Sent over to Layla's to look at a busted pipe, John finds temptation too hard to resist.  
In the meanwhile, Tiffany confronts Drew about what really happened on their honeymoon._


	10. Temptation

**The Good Life**

_AN._ Thank you to **livelaughspear, xHalosandwings, BigRedMachineUK, Liloxbubbly, KyraJane, DiivaLover, xTwistedxImperfectionx, xSiimplyCrazeedx, getcraazysofia, xsostarstruck, ThatGirl54, Nadia26 **_&_ **gabrielxdivaa **for reviewing the last chapter.

Thanks very muchly! :)

_

* * *

_

_Chapter Ten – Temptation_

_

* * *

_

Staring out of the kitchen window and into her backyard, Tiffany appeared to be lost in her own little world. The position she was in now—arms folded tightly across her chest, a mug of cold tea sat behind her on the table—suggested she'd been standing there entirely too long. She didn't seem to care though; all she was focused on was the small, pretty birds flitting around in her garden.

She'd done this one too many times now. Intent on being productive around the house, she was now often dragged into deep and hurtful thoughts. Nothing could be done about it. She just had to stop and give in to it.

What was happening to her? Tiffany hated to think that by covering her husband's terrible ways, she was also getting rid of a part of herself. It was certainly becoming harder—especially in the presence of her close friends—to spot the truthful, outgoing woman she knew she used to be.

The sound of footsteps coming her way from the direction of the master bedroom was enough of a distraction for the confused blonde. Shortly after turning, Drew appeared, wearing a simple grey tee—an item of baggy clothing on her which she used to love to fall asleep in—and a pair of plain boxer shorts. He'd obviously just woken up.

She, on the other hand, had been unable to sleep much past six o' clock and slipped out of bed - and away from the light grip her husband had on her – as quickly as possible.

"Good morning." His Scottish accent was clear as he spoke out into the silence. "How are the twins doing?"

"Fine, I imagine." She answered tartly and jerked her head away – an unintentional reaction – when he attempted to greet her with a kiss. "Please don't."

"Sorry." He gave a weary sigh and raised his hands up in defence before backing away altogether. "Any chance we can have a proper conversation about what happened any time soon?"

The housewife didn't answer straightaway.

Instead, she rested a light hand over her stomach and thought about the two small beings growing inside of her. Her thought pattern had been a little strange recently but there was one constant, recurring thought that made complete sense: _If she and Drew weren't able to talk about the incident then what future did they have together? What kind of future would their twins have?_

She knew it was time to revisit the painful memories of their honeymoon, and glanced briefly at the cast on her wrist. She only had to wait out another few weeks until she could have it removed...

"So let's talk."

The sudden comment startled him. He turned away from the coffee pot he'd been about to pick up, away from the empty black mug sitting next to it, and looked into her eyes. She was definitely determined enough to see her words through. "Do you mean it?" He asked anyway – just to make sure his own eyes and ears weren't deceiving him.

"Yes." She nodded. "I'm sick and tired of walking around this house and feeling like there's a stranger in it—especially when this stranger is someone I wish I could be proud to call my husband. So—" She straightened out considerably. "—we're going to sit down at the kitchen table, we're going to talk this through and... eventually... we'll work this out."

Tiffany McIntyre had never sounded so serious in all of her life. Drew didn't contradict a word of what she was saying and merely followed her to the table, blinking at the floor in stunned surprise. He felt like all of his thoughts were jumbled up, and he suddenly wouldn't be able to explain himself or the course of action he chose to take on that night.

Silence swallowed them whole for a little while as they took their places.

For the blonde, she knew that this may be make or break for their marriage; if she found out she couldn't trust him anymore, or wouldn't be able to in the long months to come, then she would have to make a heartbreaking decision. This enough was true.

"So," she started uncertainly, though she wanted to seem confident in her effort to finally open up, "Just how do you explain how you left it up to a stranger to help out your new wife when thugs decided to attack her? How do you explain why you just stood there while I struggled to breathe? How do you explain why you nearly let me _die?_"

* * *

John Cena had recently decided that when he wasn't training his heart out at the wrestling centre – the vision of finally making it big in the 'E to keep him going – he loved to be in the driving seat, radio turned up loud and sporting a clear mind while he got from point A to B. There didn't appear to be a place, not even at 'home' with Mike and Alex, where he felt better in himself.

A few seconds after pulling up at a red light, he glanced at the car beside his to see what the driver looked like. He was surprised to find an attractive red-head staring back at him, the perfect seductive smirk on her glossed lips. He would be lying if he said he wasn't quite the charmer when he wanted to be, and happily gave a dimpled smile in return; it was a look he knew many women fell for when he offered it.

Her smirk grew for a moment and then she turned back to the road, speeding off when the green light flickered back to life.

The wannabe wrestler let out a low chuckle as he drove on, once again focused on his way home. It was good to know he still had it in him to attract a woman's attention. With his luck in relationships, even this small exchange of a first encounter was a victory.

Admiring the sunny view of shops and – equally – shoppers around, he almost didn't hear his phone go off on the passenger's seat. He turned the volume down on a _Flo Rida_ track and pressed a button on his cell, putting it onto loud speaker. "Yo Mike, what's up?" He greeted his roommate casually.

"_Are you in the area right now? 'Cause I've got a job for you to do if you are – you get to make big bucks from this one, too."_

"Sounds good to me. Yeah, I'm around. What needs doing?"

While The Miz explained the plumbing job in all its extent—a broken pipe that needed to be fixed in someone's bathroom—he smirked to himself. It had obviously been a _genius_ idea of his to start up a small business in his name; the idea being that, if he built up his rep over the course of a year or so while he still trained in his spare time, he would be making enough money to pay the rent _and_ enjoy himself at the same time.

John Cena, a mastermind? It definitely sounded right to him.

"So where's the place?" He asked curiously, wondering if he would have to turn around in a few seconds to go check it out.

"_Just come on home."_ Even though he couldn't see him, Mike sounded like he was smirking. He was definitely amused to say the least. _"It's the house opposite to ours."_

His mood, unsurprisingly enough, turned sour in an instant. "That means..."

"_Yeah, the Regal household. Look I have to go—"_ There was a scuffling sound in the background. He assumed his friend was putting on his jacket. _"—got things to do and all, but Layla should be expecting you."_

"One more question: how did she know I was a part-time plumber?"

"_Oh, she didn't. She passed me on her way out this morning and said she was in a terrible mood because the upstairs bathroom needed fixing up. She didn't know what to do about it. And that's where you obviously come in. It's not going to be a problem is it, bro?"_

"Nah, it's cool." He wanted to add _Bro_ viciously to the end of the comment, but Mike didn't know about the relationship he used to have with Layla—he also didn't know about the woman's devious ways. "See you later."

"_Yeah, sure. Alex is working late tonight and tomorrow, and then he's got that date with Eve that I told you about the next night, so don't expect to see him for the next couple of days."_

"Alright. Bye."

After hanging up, John cursed under his breath. Just typical. It wasn't like he could back out now, so – instead – he sped up, with the mindset that this job would be over and done with if he got there quicker. It sounded like he needed five minutes tops – then he was free to leave and chill out at home for the next few hours.

He pulled into his drive in the next few minutes and took his tools out of the trunk, prepared for the short walk over to her house. He would have given himself a couple of minutes to tell himself not to get involved with his emotions, but by the time he arrived at the door, she'd already opened it with a smile.

"So it's upstairs, yeah?" He wasted no time. Barely bothering to look at her, he brushed past her and headed towards the stairs.

"Let me lead the way." Her tone was soft, almost... _sexy_... as she walked ahead, leading him upstairs.

He hadn't noticed before—what with his determination to ignore her completely and focus on the cash he would receive afterwards—but she was wearing quite a skimpy dressing gown. Rich in its baby pink satin, he had to stop his mind from drifting to thoughts he knew would get him in trouble later...

They passed her bed, immaculately made up, but she slowed down while he made a move towards the bathroom. "In here?" He questioned. When she didn't answer for a few moments, John sighed and faced her. "Layla, will you make this easy for..."

The former Diva's smirk was evident while she slowly untied the robe and let it fall to the floor around her bare ankles. She _definitely_ had his full attention as she placed her hands on her hips, showing off her slender figure - dressed in lacy black lingerie - to him.

"I thought—" Flicking her hair out of her eyes, she advanced towards him, making sure to release the tight grasp he suddenly had on his tool box. "—that you could make the most out of this visit."

In his head, John was perfectly aware of the warning bells going off. _Don't fall into her trap. That's all she's trying to do: trap you. Don't fall for it!_ But in his heart—and maybe more importantly, his pants—he felt something else.

The housewife leaned in on her tiptoes, pressing light hands against his broad shoulders. Her lips were now inches away from his own. "What do you say, John? You and me again. Because I missed you and I'm sure you—"

Cut off in an instant, he grabbed her by the small of her back and lifted her up. As she wrapped her legs around his waist, their lips met in a rough, passionate clinch and he blindly staggered over to the king-size bed waiting for them.

As far as they were both concerned, this 'visit' had been long overdue.

* * *

"I was... I was scared." Drew's answer wasn't perfect – far from it, in fact. But he was struggling to keep it together while he, too, remembered the terrible evening. "One minute we were taking this beautiful walk together and the next... the next..."

"You were thrown to the ground, I was grabbed by the wrist and held against my will by two guys who were about to rob me." She filled him in bitterly, shaking her head afterwards. "And _the next minute_ you stood to your feet and just watched. You didn't do anything. You just... watched."

"I was in shock. I don't know how I can explain that to you rationally without you thinking I'm a monster." He reached for her hand, but she tugged it away forcefully before he could touch her. "How does your perfect world get turned around so quickly?"

"I don't know but it happened to me too, Drew." This was no good. Just a minute into the conversation and she could already feel the tears coming on—that, and an unbelievable amount of anger rising in her tense body. "Do you remember the vows we took when we were married?"

"Of course I do."

"_Do you promise to love, comfort, __**honour**__ and keep her? For better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health?" _Tiffany recited perfectly. The first tear splashed down her cheek and she wiped it away harshly. "Because I took the same vows – and then some – but I never would have allowed them to harm you, had it been you in the situation. Even if I couldn't do much I'd still do anything I could to help you. Absolutely anything."

"I should have helped. I know I should have done." He shook his head, glaring down at the floor. "I should have kicked into action from the moment it happened and fought to protect you with everything I have."

"Yes, well... shoulda, woulda, coulda. None of it matters now when all we're left with is this." Her emotions on the line, the blonde continued. "I don't think you realize how serious this is—"

"I do know. _I do."_

"At any minute I could have you packing your bags. At any minute I could tell you to get the hell out of my life, to never contact me again and not to expect anything from me. I could freeze you out of my life – out of our children's lives. Is that what you want?"

He ran a hand through his messy, long hair. "Is that what you would do?" He asked her instead.

Of course, Tiffany knew she wouldn't. Even if her darling husband had betrayed her by almost allowing her to be beaten up for the sake of a few flashy accessories, she would never shove him away so viciously. She was so helplessly in love with him... and she knew, _just knew_ he would make the most perfect father a child could ever ask for.

But at the same time, it didn't mean it could never happen. Sitting here right now on what was meant to be a beautiful day, filled with the promise of a happy married life, she didn't imagine this was what her post-honeymoon days would be like.

Could she imagine post-break-up days away from Drew McIntyre, her new husband?

"I had to watch as a stranger – this random guy – had the guts to do what you didn't. He fought for me. He attacked the guys with everything he had, long enough for me to get away back to you... why wasn't it _you_ fighting them? I won't ever understand that." She shrugged. "And no, maybe I won't kick you out... straightaway... but I won't be able to trust you either. It's like I don't know who you are anymore.

"You should have gone on that UK tour, Drew. You should have gone away for two weeks and left me in peace. You should have left me to think over this whole thing. Because I can't be here with you constantly reminding me about what you failed to do."

"I _want_ to be here with you." Now he could feel tears coming on. This whole thing was just an emotional mess to deal with – completely unfixable as of right now. "Before the honeymoon, I was ready to go back to Scotland—to take you with me and show you off—to my family. But I chose to stay here because I know we can get through this. We can get _past_ this."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Are you sure about that? No amount of apologies can _ever_ make up for what you did, and you shouldn't expect them to."

"I don't, Tiff. Of course I don't." Another sigh, reminiscent to the one he gave off before this conversation, escaped through his mouth. Now they were both exhausted, barely five minutes into the argument, and so out of words to say without repeating themselves. "I just need to make this up to you. Any way I can."

"You can't." Suddenly, she was onto her feet and looking around for her car keys. "I was wrong. I can't have this conversation. It's too painful."

"But we need to talk. What about the twins? What about... _us_?"

Finally finding the keys and grabbing them quickly, she turned back to him. He was still sitting there in the same position looking utterly defeated. "Consider us on hold right now."

Then she left him to do whatever he pleased, and slammed the door behind her. A throwaway glance to the house opposite hers proved to be a mistake, as Maryse happily raised a hand to wave at her in greeting; her fellow blonde was sitting on the porch, flicking through a wedding magazine carelessly.

"Hi." She mouthed, moving back into 'sweet housewife' mode. It was better if nobody knew—not even Layla, who she felt was her closest friend on the street—about her marital problems. Let everybody think everything was just peachy in her life. "Call me later?" She gestured a phone signal with her right hand.

Maryse nodded and lowered her eyes to her magazine again.

Pleased that at least she could be distracted with a long gossip later, Tiffany slid into the driver's seat and pulled out of the driveway. She wasn't entirely sure where she was going but she just needed an escape from her life right now.

Then a thought came to her. There was an old library around here that she hadn't visited in a while, but she always used to go there for some alone time when needed. _Perfect_, she thought and headed in that direction. There was nothing like getting lost in somebody else's world via a good book to forget about your own.

* * *

So there's the next chapter. Please review :)

_Coming up: While Mike takes Maryse out for a friendly dinner, John wakes up in Layla's bed..._


	11. Little Miss Deceitful

**The Good Life**

_AN._ Thank you to **xHalosandwings, DiivaLover, MrsDibiase-10, xTwistedxImperfectionx, Cena-Wilson-Crazy, VanityMayhem, getcraazysofia, bathpinkdog, xSiimplyCrazeedx, BigRedMachineUK, xsostarstruck, Nadia26 **_&_ **KyraJane **for reviewing the last chapter.

Thanks very muchly! :)

* * *

_Chapter Eleven – Little Miss Deceitful_

* * *

"I really don't know why I agreed to this."

Though Maryse appeared nonchalant, the flicker of a smile that crossed her lips, as Mike kindly held the car door open for her, suggested she didn't particularly mind what they were doing after all. Their fingers brushed as she stepped out onto the sidewalk and she made sure to keep them to herself just a few seconds later; these unintentional moments between them were becoming more and more frequent.

Locking his car, Mike smirked at her. "So now I can't take my friend out to dinner?"

"No. You can't take your friend out to the most expensive restaurant in town and not make a big deal out of it. Guaranteed—" She produced a subtle shrug. "—I'm suited to the finer things in life, but it's still not right..."

"Really? Because after everything you've told me about Ted, I think this is the least you deserve." As they walked the distance there, he gave her a sideways glance; she looked at least comfortable to be out with him tonight, and was enough to give him peace of mind. "It's just a friendly dinner – what's wrong with spending a couple of hours away from Avidian Lane?"

"I guess you have a point. The wedding planning _is_ stressing me out _and_ Emily did say I needed a break – right before she skipped out of the door and rode off with Tyler in his flashy car."

"The teenage years huh? When the most dramatic thing to happen was break a nail."

"Nails that break are still important." The housewife almost gasped and began to examine hers. They were picture perfect, glossed with a frosted pink tint. "I remember when I was on the road with Ted and I broke one right before a show. I almost screamed the place down. Ted was not happy with me at all." The amused expression on her face suddenly dropped as she thought about him. "I bet he's happy now... now that he gets to be away from me for two weeks..."

"If I was in his shoes, I'd be miserable." He smirked. His attempt to cheer her up appeared to work, and he was graced with that beautiful smile of hers again. "So – since you come here a lot – do you already know what you're getting?"

"Well I usually order the same thing when I come here with Ted—this fabulous chicken dish with the most exquisite orange and lemon sauce—but maybe, just this once, I'll try something new."

He took note of her mischievous look, and hid a smirk himself, opening the door doors to 'La Rue' for her. Truthfully, both adults were looking forward to this evening; Maryse knew Ted hadn't treated her like this in quite a long time and she hoped this evening with Mike would make up for that.

He was certainly treating her with the respect she knew she deserved.

The head waiter in charge and a personal friend of hers, Derek Richards, greeted her at the entrance. Mike watched as the tall, blonde guy kissed both of the popular woman's cheeks and then stepped back, a little concerned by his presence. "Table for... two?"

"Yes please, Derek. This is my good friend, Mike—" She gestured towards him. "—He's new to the area so I thought I'd show him around and introduce him to the best restaurant this side of town."

Derek relaxed considerably after that. "Welcome to the neighbourhood, Mike. If you'll follow me this way to the booth..."

They did so quietly. Reaching a cosy booth near the back of the serene place, she thanked him, and they were left alone with menus while they took their seats opposite one another.

After a couple of minutes, The Miz glanced up at her, wondering whether she'd chosen what she wanted to order yet. He was distracted, however, by the grin on her face while her eyes scanned the wine list; she looked... happy... and that was certainly enough for him.

"I didn't know wine made you smile so much. Is there something you're not telling me – secret alcoholic maybe?"

"No, it's not that. I promise." The former Diva sobered and angled her head of platinum blonde hair in his direction. "I just... I don't remember the last time I went out for dinner. And this is really nice. So thank you, Miz—this is a wonderful way to take a break from all the wedding stuff that needs doing."

"You're welcome. Anytime, Miss. Ouellet."

Mike looked so genuine that she couldn't help but to react; taking one hand off of the menu, she placed it over his own on the table. The action was only supposed to be brief... a fleeting moment that didn't mean anything... but as she stared into his eyes, it was obvious there was so much more to it than that.

As if stung or shocked suddenly, Maryse released him from the light grasp and looked down, clearing her throat. "So, what have you decided on?"

She barely registered his casual answer. All she was really certain of was the fact her heart was beating double time, and she hadn't experienced the feeling with Ted DiBiase, her own husband, for a long time now.

* * *

Layla hadn't known she could smile in her sleep. But as she slowly rolled onto her side, finding herself encased in strong muscular arms while her eyes fluttered tiredly open, she soon realized that it was indeed possible.

As was the feeling of being perfectly happy. Having lost that feeling for so long now, it was nice to have it back – to have it back with the same person and realize nothing had changed (apart from a last name.)

Feeling utterly satisfied in more ways than one, the married woman leaned in and softly kissed John's bare chest. She'd missed waking up to the sight and tracing patterns across his skin while she smiled to herself and waited for him to wake up; it was one of the things – actually – that she never forgot while promising herself to a better life with William Regal.

He stirred. Barely, but there had been movement. His arms wrapped even tighter around her and she giggled softly. If he hadn't been awake five seconds ago, he certainly was now; when was the last time he'd woken up with a girl beside him, a familiar sound so beautiful in his ears? It took him a moment to register the eyes staring back at him when he finally opened his, and he _almost_ smiled at the friendly sight while he tried to register just what was going on.

And then, all too suddenly, he worked it out and the prospect of a relaxed evening together was shot to hell.

"Oh shit." John eloquently commented and slipped out of the messy bed, looking hard for his clothes. They were scattered amongst hers all over the floor and reminding him of just how wild a time they had with each other just a few hours before...

Sitting up in concern, Layla modestly hid her skin behind the silk sheets they'd fumbled in together. "Where are you going?"

"Home." He answered shortly and pulled on his boxers, followed by his shirt.

For a moment she had no idea what to say; one minute he'd been there, cuddling up to her in bed just like old times and the next he was up, telling her he had to go. She didn't like this one little bit; it was like her happiness was being stripped away from her far too quickly. "You can't go. You can't just have sex with me and then leave!"

He turned to her with angry, deep blue eyes. Inappropriate as it was, the British woman had never felt so turned on in all of her life. "Guess what? You can't just fake a problem with your shower and then... _lure me_ into getting back together with you." He reached for his jeans. "You're sick."

"I hardly _lured_ you. God, what am I – the wicked witch of Avidian Lane?" Even if the odds were not in her favour the one thing Layla El Regal wouldn't do was back down. Case in point... "As I recall, _you_ were happy enough with it as I was."

"I didn't set out to get into this with you. We were over so long ago and you're... fuck, you're married." He spoke as if it was the first time he'd realized the fact. She was quiet for a moment, but when she went to speak again, he cut her off. "This was a one-time thing, Layla, and it's not going to happen again."

"Oh really?" She raised an eyebrow and accidentally-on-purpose dropped the sheet, revealing herself to him once more. "Have you changed your mind yet?"

John Cena suddenly found it hard to swallow down the lump in his throat. But he forced himself – eventually – to return to her eyes, and upon seeing the satisfied smirk on her lips, he knew what he had to do. He knew how he felt and he knew what had just happened was wrong. "You're married. You chose this life—you didn't have to, but you did. So stick with your decisions, alright? You can't have it both ways."

He grabbed his tool box and stormed out not a moment later, and she hastily grabbed her dressing gown, preparing to go after him; there was so much more she wanted to say. This was not how she planned their reunion to be.

A thought entered her mind as she rushed after him: _Why did I think everything would be okay between us now? _She couldn't work it out—all she knew was that _she_ felt happy, and yet that clearly didn't account for anything.

He was at the bottom of the stairs near the door when she finally caught up with him. "This isn't how I thought things would be, you know!" She cried out in desperation as she rushed down the stairs and towards him. "I didn't want _us_ to be this way. But I had no choice. It was either this or... or..."

"A life with me – where you couldn't be happy without the security of money? Yeah, I get it. Really deep, Layla. Shit—" John muttered to himself, running a hand over his short brown hair. "Why did I ever fall in love with you?"

"Because we're perfect together." She grabbed his arm, but he roughly pulled it away, pushing her in the meanwhile. He was still as strong as ever in their arguments. "You know it, I know it..."

"But the whole world can't know it because you're married and I'm over you." He stated as a matter of fact. "I hope when you think about what you've done you realize what a cold-hearted bitch you are."

Her heart sunk. Standing opposite him right now, dressed in only a thin dressing gown, Layla felt small. Wronged, somehow, too. "I... _I missed you._"

He opened his mouth to answer her—then, a beat later, he shut it again and looked at her in disgust. Perhaps he felt this towards himself too, for being so weak with his ex-girlfriend when he definitely knew better? John slammed the door behind him after letting himself out and she was left alone in her big house, unsure how to feel.

If she had a heart, maybe she would start crying. Layla knew, however, that her true self had been buried the second she chose to live a life of stability rather than one of love.

And maybe, just maybe, there was no turning back now.

* * *

The ten minute drive home was pleasant enough.

Mike and Maryse had been out for at least two hours, and the latter had gotten over the hand-holding incident fairly quickly, shrugging it off in the next few minutes or so when they became involved in a funny conversation about their college years. She'd learnt a lot about the guy driving her home right now – so much so, in fact, that she was far more content with him now than she had been at the start of the evening.

Was she still dwelling on being intimate with him this evening? Yes, of course. It was still heavy in her mind but she'd wisely shoved it to the back in order to think rationally. And this was working out just fine for her right now.

Her train of thoughts taking over once again, the French-Canadian beauty barely noticed Mike turn down the radio—the sound of some band called _Downstait _being drowned out—and call out to her. "I hope tonight was good for you. I had a great time."

"It was perfect. Thank you." A smile played on her glossed lips as she focused her gaze away from the blurred images out of the window and onto his face. "I'll admit I had reservations about tonight – as you know – but I'm glad I went through with it. It was just... so much fun."

"Yeah? I'm glad. We'll do it again at some point."

"Sure. And in the meanwhile, we can camp out in your kitchen on poker night while Alex and Eve battle it out as if it's a matter of life or death."

He chuckled, briefly thinking about the two. "Mhm. Alex is excited about their date – a little too excited, I think. I caught him in the mirror before work this morning talking to himself... I think he was trying chat-up lines on himself so he can use them on her."

"Tell him not to bother. She hates them."

"Noted." He nodded.

There was a short silence between them as Mike concentrated on turning off to the left. All too suddenly they were back in Avidian Lane, their houses drawing closer, and Maryse felt oddly disappointed; she'd been away from her stressful life earlier on and now she was being shoved right back into it. With The Miz, she felt... _safe_... and not in the least bit stressed.

Pulling up at her house just moments later, he turned off the engine and pressed his hands down on the steering wheel, unsure what else to do. "So... I'll see you at the poker game?"

"... Or maybe—" She started to suggest quietly. "—we could meet up before that. To talk more about Ted. Obviously."

"If that's what you want then sure."

"Okay. I'll ring you in the next couple of days." She gripped her purse tighter, feeling somewhat awkward. She couldn't figure out why in the moment. "Thank you for tonight. It was fun."

"I agree."

Maryse leaned over and pecked him on the cheek—and like the intimate moment before, it was only supposed to a quick gesture that meant nothing. But she chose to linger cheek-to-cheek for longer than necessary and it was suddenly all too clear what was going on between them.

She knew she'd grown closer to him in the past few days. He was there for her in a way Ted wasn't. He understood her in a way that Ted _clearly_ didn't. He was, to put it simply, just there. And she'd realized this at the worst time possible.

Pulling away slowly, the former Diva stared into his eyes. He seemed to be on the exact same wavelength as her. And then they were both leaning... leaning... and about to savour their inevitable first kiss together...

_What am I doing?_

This thought was what saved Maryse from cheating on her husband. She jerked her head back, shocked at her behaviour, and barely said a mumbled goodbye before she was rushing—in the most ladylike fashion—up her porch steps, letting herself in and shutting the door behind her...

_Oh my God. Was I about to kiss him?_ A look of confusion swept over her facial features and she stayed stuck in place for a short while, unable to comprehend what had been going on with her recently. _And Ted... oh, how could I do that to him?_

He wasn't all she had to worry about.

Emily's footsteps pounded down the stairs and in an instant, the fifteen year-old girl was standing in front of her, arms folded stubbornly over her chest. She didn't look at all pleased. "What were you thinking?"

She began to panic inwardly. Straightening up, she asked, "What, sweetheart?"

"Don't play dumb! I know what you did." The teenager glared at her. "Why would you make me hang out with Logan after school _again_ when you know I don't like him? Urgh, you never let me hang out with Tyler and he's my actual boyfriend! What is wrong with you?"

That was a good question, but one she didn't have to answer as she brushed past her fussy daughter and headed into the kitchen. All she wanted now was a hot drink, a warm bath and her bed... and preferably to forget all about her almost-kiss with Mike "The Miz" Mizanin. What had gotten into her?

"Mom? Are you even listening to me?"

Considering it too harsh to give Emily 'the Maryse hand', she shook her head instead. "Go back to your room, Emily. We'll talk some more in the morning if that's what you really want. And don't roll your eyes!" She added when the youngster finally turned on her heel and stomped away at her loudest. "You know I don't like it when you do that!"

"Whatever!"

She was left alone with her thoughts soon enough. Putting down her purse, she caught sight of her wedding ring, and started twisting it around her finger in deep thought. Something definitely had to change—whether it was to do with her husband or the newest guy on the street.

* * *

So there's the next chapter. Please review :)

_Coming up: Alex Riley hopes to impress Eve on their first date. Will he fail or prevail?_


	12. The Date

**The Good Life**

_AN._ Thank you to **livelaughspear, xSiimplyCrazeedx, keepthefaithx, xHalosandwings, xsostarstruck, getcraazysofia, gabrielxdivaa, xTwistedxImperfectionx, StephanieMcmahon101, KyraJane, ashley-n-john-4-ever, Cena-Wilson-Crazy, quteash **_&_ **Nadia26** for reviewing the last chapter.

Thanks very muchly! :)

* * *

_Chapter Twelve – The Date_

* * *

"Are you sure you're not ill?"

"I'm fine. Trust me."

"Are you sure I'm not ill? There's a thermometer in the bathroom cabinet upstairs. Do you think you could go and get it for me?"

Logan Torres gave a loud groan as he turned away from the television screen in the living room to face his mother, who was staring at her made-up reflection in the mirror miserably. It was a pleasant Tuesday evening and by now, both were perfectly aware that in just five minutes, Alex Riley would be at the door, ready to start off the promised date that was betted on at the poker game.

"You're right. I'm being immature." Eve said as she ran a hand through her straightened locks; she had to admit she liked the way her silver stud earrings shined against the dark gloss of her hair colour. "All I have to do is ignore him for a couple of hours until the date is over."

"Or you could—"

"Ooh!" She cut off her son and twirled around excitedly to face him. "Or you could call me twenty minutes into the date and fake some random illness. That way I would have to come home. What do you think?"

He stared at her for a short moment. "No." He shook his head, and then turned back to his programme. "I was going to suggest you go out with this guy and give him the benefit of the doubt. How long has it been since you've been on a date?"

Four months. _And_ the guy suggested that if he paid for a luxurious dinner for them he would expect an evening of even better sex from her... but really, who was counting the exact amount of failed dates she'd been on recently?

"You know I don't like it when you get all logical on me."

"Someone has to be," said the boy in a bored tone, and then grimaced when his mother brushed past him and ruffled his hair while doing so.

Upon entering the kitchen, the former Diva made a dash for the window. Maybe if she caught sight of him beforehand she would be better prepared for tonight... and maybe if she saw that horrible smirk of his, she wouldn't feel at all bad about breaking off the date.

But her eyes weren't focused on his facial features when he passed by the window of his house. Instead, they appeared to be fixed—for the briefest moment he was in her line of sight—on his shirtless body. _Again._ There'd been a shirt in his hands and he was obviously about to put it on, but why did she have to be witness to _those_ abs?

Realizing she'd been frozen in thought for a minute too long, Eve turned away and reached for the jug of water on the counter. She poured a little bit into a glass and took a sip. _Okay. Game plan._ She mused. _Options are faking some kind of illness – a little too obvious though? – or actually seeing it through. Oh God... I'm stuck with him, aren't I?_

As the doorbell rang it definitely appeared that way.

"Here goes nothing." She muttered, placing the empty glass down and walking out of the room.

Logan answered the door before she got to it and she stiffened slightly in the approach, wondering how they would take to each other. "Hey, you must be my new stepfather." Very well apparently. "Mom, he's here!"

"Feel free to call me Dad – oh, but only if that doesn't make you uncomfortable." Her date for the evening grinned.

It made _her_ uncomfortable. How could one sentence from this guy make her son laugh, when she'd been trying for years and hadn't been able to do the same? Somewhat upset, she stepped into view.

Alex smiled as he checked out her outfit. "You look... stunning." He uttered when his eyes swept over a dark little number of a dress, low cut and stopping at a dangerous mid-thigh level, with three silver stripes running down from below the bust. Pairing the figure-fitting delight off with black heels and a matching clutch, he obviously couldn't get enough.

She couldn't seem to fault him for the sincerity in his expression but did mumble a slightly bitter, "Am I _fancy_ enough for you?" comment, to which he laughed in response, before walking outdoors into the cold evening to join him.

"Have a good time," was Logan's standard bored send off, and not a moment later the door was shut behind them.

Now both alone, it was up to one of them to make conversation and since one of the party was already stepping down off the porch with loud footsteps to follow... "So, have you ever been to La Mendes Rio before?" Alex enquired after he'd managed to catch up with her.

"No, I don't think so." The brunette eyed him suspiciously as he opened the car door for her. "Where is it?"

"Twenty minutes out of town. Don't worry—" He added hastily, noticing her look just before he was about to shut the door. "You say the word if things get bad and I'll take you home."

"Can I have that option now?"

"According to the rules of the bet... no."

"There are rules now?"

Shutting the door, Alex merely smirked at her through the window and then half-jogged round to the driver's seat. He had a feeling that this date wouldn't be all smooth-sailing but he was more than ready for the ultimate challenge of winning her over.

"So I figured we could get to know each other on the way there." He was driving out of Avidian Lane now, and her eyes were focused solely on the world outside the window. "Is there anything you want to ask me about my life?"

The woman considered giving him the cold shoulder but soon realized it wasn't worth it. She was stuck with him anyhow – no point not getting the entertainment out of it that she could. Over the low hum of the radio, she turned to him and ventured, "There is one thing."

"Go ahead."

"You know where you work? Is there an actual McDreamy there? Or even a McSteamy?"

"Is this your soap opera thing? Grey's Anatomy, right?"

"Maybe... just answer the question. Are there really hot doctors around? And ooh, do they all sleep with each other?"

He glimpsed at her briefly before returning to the road. "No, I don't think so. And what is it with you and all these things you like to watch on television? I think the one thing I've noticed most about you in the short time I've been here is how eager you are to talk about anything or anyone other than yourself."

"We've met for poker night twice. How do you figure that one out?"

"You're just... I don't know, easy to read?"

She felt a little offended at his accusation. Looking out of the window again, she shrugged. "Maybe I just like a little excitement now and again. If I get it from television characters, who are you to judge?"

"Hey, I really didn't mean to make you feel bad, Eve."

"Good – because you didn't. You definitely didn't." She lied. Tipping her head up slightly, she breathed in. "So... is there anything you want to ask me?"

He would have liked to point out that the question she asked wasn't about him at all, but decided to keep it to himself as he thought up one of his own. It was lucky that he was even allowed to spend time with her tonight – thank God for that bet. "Yeah, sure... do you mind if we don't have sex tonight? I have an early morning so—"

"Jerk." The brunette muttered. When she saw the playful smirk on his face, she tried to hide her own. Okay, she had to give him credit where it was due – he was going to all of this trouble just for her. _Maybe_ she would help him out. "Right, I have another question. So when did you know you wanted to become a doctor? ..."

-x-

"That's actually quite a sweet story." Eve admitted as she looked over Alex's shoulder from their dinner table, and saw – just vaguely in the candlelit area – the owners of the restaurant behind the bar. "It's nice, you know? To think that you could dedicate your life to someone and just _know_ they could never hurt you. I think Rosa's lucky to find that in Alberto."

He watched while she lost herself in the moment for a little while. She looked vulnerable, which was an expression he wasn't too familiar with when it came to her; it was funny, but when she wasn't glaring at him childishly, she actually looked quite... beautiful.

Suddenly snapping out of her moment, Eve glanced back at Alex, perturbed to see a weird look on his face. What was with this man? He'd been doing it the whole time they were here – which, thinking about it, had been at least two hours. Wow... she hadn't even attempted to fake a phone call to her son.

Once settled at their table, she'd been a little on edge about his choice. He had suggested it – as he told her – because he wanted to honour her roots, and while it had been sweet, she wasn't reeled in with that line. She was cautious with him, too; she couldn't just go from hating him to thinking he was 'sweet' too quickly, could she?

But the food had been excellent – along with the several glasses of wine she thought she needed to get through this – and if she didn't remind herself that the guy sitting opposite her now was Alex Riley, it was all becoming a lovely evening.

"I'm pretty sure it's the alcohol talking, but I'm not having such a bad time." She nodded. "You clean up nice too. Yes," she added a beat later, "That was _definitely_ the wine."

"Doesn't alcohol lure you into telling the truth though? Now I'm not saying you're lusting after me but I could easily think that way now..."

She made a half-hearted attempt to throw her napkin at him.

He chuckled. "Come on," started Alex as he stood to his feet. She stared at the hand that was offered to her. "We're going to dance."

There was a brief few seconds of silence before she laughed. "Are you serious right now? Can you _even_ dance?"

"No, but I know you can. I did see you through the window that one time." When she grew quiet at the memory, he fought back a laugh. "C'mon, Eve – we're having a good time. How about this? One dance, _maybe_ two, and then I'll promise to take you back. No more questions asked. It's the end of the date and you never have to go on another one with me again."

"Is that a promise?"

"Absolutely."

Eve looked cautiously into his eyes. Then, apparently won over with the guarantee of going home, she rose to her feet – completely ignoring his offer of helping her up – and led the way to the dance floor. Only a few couples were there, dancing around to the fun, energetic music that played through speakers in the corner of the room.

Just as she turned to face him, her long hair twirling with her and resting on her shoulders, a slower beat overtook the song playing and the mood simmered down to a romantic atmosphere. Looking around, she saw another pair taking to the floor and wrapping their arms around each other passionately.

"I swear I didn't plan this." He grinned. "But you _did_ promise me a dance."

A huff of breath spilled through her glossed lips. "Fine." She acted as though it was completely beneath her to dance to a slow song, rolling her eyes while she moved closer to him.

Despite the front she put on, the shiver that ran up her spine when he placed gentle hands on the small of her back and pulled her in was definitely undeniable. Still, she swallowed uncomfortably as she loosely wrapped her arms around his neck, wondering if she would have to stare into his eyes the whole time.

Eventually, she took to glancing around at the place while they swayed together. She couldn't remember the last time she'd done this. Actually, that was a lie – she could. It had been with Chris on one of their early dates. She was oh-so-besotted with him, thinking that he was the only guy for her... and just how had she been so lucky to find someone as wonderful and trustworthy as him...

_Oh my God. What am I even doing – going on a date with someone I don't even like and then dancing like this with him?_ She almost shook her head. Emotion gripped her tightly all of a sudden and she fought to hold back a tiny choke in her throat. _Why am I doing this? I don't deserve—_

"Hey – is everything okay?" Alex's voice was soft. Channelling back in on him, she realized where she was again. "I hope dancing with me isn't that bad..." He let out a nervous chuckle.

"I'm going to tell you something and you cannot respond in any way until you've heard me through, okay?" Though surprised, he nodded and she waited a moment – trying to work out if this was a good idea – before going for it. "Here's the deal: the guy that I thought was the only one for me cheated on me. It took me so long to get over it, and truth be told I don't think I'm over it now. I know what it's like to get your heart ripped out of your chest and it is _so_ painful. Like... you can't even imagine what I went through.

"And so now I keep avoiding all these chances to go out on dates with people. Maryse tries to set me up all the time and I either find flaws with each guy so quickly or I just shy away, pretending like I don't see the potential of a future with anyone. I don't have the guts to tell anyone that I'm a single mom who desperately wishes for her old life back.

"Now I'm here with you, and I'm not exactly hating it. _But_ I still can't trust you because I don't know you and... and you're just this guy who recently came into my life and hustled me into a date. Style points for you on that but I'm not this strong woman that you think I am. I'm just trying to get through the day without thinking about what a failure I am."

Finishing up, she took a step back, breaking off all contact with him. She recoiled in horror as she realized that not only had she just revealed so much more than she wanted to – and with added emotion, too – but there were tears threatening to spill down her cheeks and ruin everything.

Eve regretted saying every word. This was Alex Riley – how long had she known him? And _why_ had she just spilt her whole life story to him? Though she knew she'd needed someone to talk to for a while about this, why did it have to be this vulnerable moment that got her talking?

He hesitated for a moment before asking, "Can I speak now?"

She nodded before staring down at her feet. She wasn't even sure she wanted to hear what he was about to say; he was supposed to be the guy she had a hate-hate relationship with. How could that continue when everything had just changed so dramatically and unexpectedly between them?

"I think you are strong, Eve. I just don't think you know how much. I think... I think you might take a lot of crap sometimes when you shouldn't – and where is this failure stuff coming from? I don't see that in you." He tried to catch her gaze, finding he couldn't. "So okay, fair enough, I didn't know about Chris and what he did to you. Of course I'm not surprised... but I didn't take you out on this date just to get you into bed or anything like that. I've had my eye on you ever since we first met because I see a spark in you. I like that about you."

This was when she looked up. "Seriously?" A ghost of a smile touched her lips.

"Definitely." He nudged her in a playful manner. "And just because you think all men out there are scum, I'm not going to give up on you. Maybe you're not ready for a relationship but I'm going to stick around and we can... we can try to be _friends._ If that's okay with you. If anything develops from there on then that's great... and if it doesn't, at least I know I have a friend in you. Because you, Eve Torres, deserve to know how great you are every once in a while."

If Layla was here, she would be yelling out, "Just kiss him already!" And she probably _would_ have taken the advice. But standing there now, feeling unlike herself and very surprised at his sincerity, she couldn't bring herself to say anything other than, "Well let's not waste a good song."

He smiled to himself before taking her in his arms again. "Okay, one more dance and then I'll take you home. No goodnight kiss or anything – I promise."

Eve smiled. "I'm going to hold you to that."

* * *

So there's the next chapter. Please review :)

_Coming Up: While Layla harasses Eve about her date, Tiffany meets up with an old friend._


	13. An Old Friend

**The Good Life**

_AN._ Thank you to **Cena-Wilson-Crazy, x0allisonqt0x, sophia0401, ashley-n-john-4-ever, xsostarstruck, xHalosandwings, keepthefaithx, xTwistedxImperfectionx, getcraazysofia, gabrielxdivaa, VanityMayhem, Nadia26 **_&_ **HappySmiler **for reviewing the last chapter.

Thanks very muchly! :)

* * *

_Chapter Thirteen – An Old Friend_

* * *

Pulling into Layla's driveway the next day, Eve figured that the former Diva had called her away from the jiu-jitsu class she was teaching over at the wrestling centre for an unimportant, completely superficial reason. Clambering out of her car in a sweaty mess, she certainly hoped this was the case. A distraction was definitely in order for the brunette today, her desire for one growing stronger with each memory of last night to come up.

Why had she spilled her guts to Alex Riley of all people?

She was saved from the question mere seconds later when – surprisingly enough – a distinctly British tone of voice called out from the intercom at the side of the house, and she was made to listen out for the announcement.

"I'm by the pool in the hot tub section. Come find me." The mistress of the house sounded very relaxed. "I saw you coming up from this new camera William had installed here. It's really handy... case in point, I don't need to get out of the tub if you're coming back here. Which you better be."

The brunette chuckled quietly to herself at her menacing tone, and let herself into the back yard via the old, almost rusting gate. Her nostrils soon filled with a variety of fragrant smells from the colourful flowers suddenly surrounding her, but she had little chance to enjoy the serene moment when Layla spotted her and ushered her over.

"Mmm." The housewife was quick to swallow the gulp of appletini she'd sipped up prior to her friend appearing in sight. "You look like a hot mess."

She watched through envious eyes while the woman placed the cocktail glass back down onto the side and leaned further back into the tub. "Some of us have to work for a living, Layla. Speaking of the place I'm supposed to be right now, is there a reason you pulled me away from it?"

"Only the most important one." She shrugged, and then widened her eyes in disbelief a beat later when her friend continued to stare at her, unknowing. "I want to know how the date went!"

"Oh, right... you couldn't have called or texted instead? That's what Maryse did at six this morning. By the way, I don't appreciate being woken up at that time... just for future reference."

"Details are so much more relevant this way. I get to _see_ your reactions as you tell me the story. So go on, start! I've got my drink at the ready."

For a moment, the single mother considered lying; it would be so nice just to say the date went terribly – as expected of the two – and that there was zero amount of chemistry between her and Alex. But she'd already told Maryse the truth in their phone call, so what was the point in mixing up stories?

"Truthfully, it did me good." Eve took a seat on a dry side panel of the tub, looking out to the clear blue pool ahead. "I was trying to ignore him to start with, but then I kind of gave up on that. He's not such a bad guy. Actually, he was the perfect gentleman when I practically had a breakdown in the middle of the dance-floor at Los Mendes Rio..."

The obvious question was asked in astonishing tones a mere few seconds later. "You had a _breakdown?_"

"I panicked, okay? I was having a good time until I was reminded of the parallel with Chris... and _then_ I got upset about how horrible that relationship turned out. So I ended up telling Alex everything."

"Oh right. What did he say?"

"He said some really sweet things—" She broke off, smiling at the fresh memory. "—and then we danced for a little while before he took me home. No goodnight kiss but we're going to be friends."

Layla grimaced. "No goodnight kiss? What kind of date is that?"

"The normal kind for some people, Lay." Eve grinned at her friend. "And you know what? It was a _good_ date. Thinking of every date I've been on in the last year, this one easily tops each and every one of them—he proved to me that not all guys are dicks. That's a big deal for me. He's... the nice guy out of a sea of dicks."

"A sea of dicks – are you imagining it with me?" snickered the housewife. When the gesture in return was a playful roll of the eyes, Layla cleared her throat. "Sorry – that was so not what I was supposed to be taking from that. What I mean to say is... if you're happy, then we're all happy for you. You deserve this, whether you're just going to be friends with Alex or something more."

For the first time in a while, the brunette said, "I think so too. He made me think about how much I'm worth."

"So you say you're going to be just friends with him?"

"Yep, that's the plan. Why do you ask?"

"That's never going to work." The British woman smirked at her, taking another sip of her drink. "You can say it all you like but you're already talking like you're in love. You might not be right now, but I'm sure you will be. Alex has brought out another side to you... it's quite sweet."

"You don't find anything sweet."

"That's not _entirely_ true. Just take my words for what they are – the truth. If I say you and Alex are going to make it as a couple, then you will. Okay?" Raising a challenging eyebrow, she earned a laugh. "I need to believe in at least one couple. Ted and Maryse don't seem to be doing so well right now, and I barely see Drew and Tiff together anyway. So you and Alex will have to do."

Eve stood to her feet. "Aren't you in a perfectly happy relationship with William?"

"Of course," said the former Diva, covering her tracks gracefully, "but I get lonely when he's away, you know? So what do you think about Alex? Do you think all you'll ever be is friends?"

"I'm going now. I have a class to get back to – if any of them are still there, that is."

"I'm going to take that as a no!" Layla shouted after her in a sing-song voice. "You and Alex sitting in a tree..."

_Oh dear God._ Eve was half-tempted to laugh to herself as she made it back around the front, but when she spotted Alex Riley himself stepping out of his house, gym gear on and a casual smile on his face, she froze in place and her own smile disappeared completely. _Shut up, Layla. Shut up._

Was the intercom somehow _louder _now that she'd turned it back on to sing after her_? _"K-I-S-S-I-N-G! First comes love—and lots of hot sex because Alex looks like he'd be good at that—and then comes marriage and then... hey, why are you just standing there? I thought you had to go?"

It was too late.

"Hi." Alex waved at her, looking thoroughly amused by the little jingle that had just been sung out by Layla El.

"Hi." She echoed his greeting.

Then she made a dash for her car, ignoring the heavy smirk on his handsome features until she was in the driver's seat and ready to back out of the driveway. Inadvertently humiliating herself twice in a row with the guy? Yeah, it hadn't been on her to-do list.

* * *

It wasn't an often occurrence as of late for Tiffany to have a reason to smile—of course, knowing that she was going to be bringing twins into the world _and_ being a first time mother at the same time was something to rejoice in, but then she always thought about the marital problems she was having and that happy feeling went flooding right back out, to be replaced with strong pangs of sadness.

But as she walked along the crowded street that Wednesday, the bubbly blonde was feeling more and more like her old self. A smile graced her pretty features while she put one foot in front of the other, her destination being the remote but cosy cafe at the end of this road.

A phone call out of the blue last night had prompted this particular visit today, and she'd been delighted to accept the offer of meeting up here—after all, the person on the other end of the line was a dear friend and she hadn't seen him in such a long time. If he was in town, why not take the opportunity to see each other again?

She felt like this reunion – of sorts – would go well. She definitely hoped it would be a small release from the things in life that had got her down recently. It was time to pick up on nicer memories and remember the life she was living before this one.

When she made it to the cafe, she took a moment to compose herself at the door, and then pushed it wide open to make her entrance. The sweet tinkle of the bell above it turned heads in her direction, and she spotted the one she was looking for about ten seconds later. She waved excitedly to him, pleased to see that adorable smile of his, and then worked her way to the corner.

"Hi!" She greeted him.

"It's good to see you again, Tiff. You're looking great – not that I'd expect any less." Current WWE superstar, Evan Bourne, was quite the charmer as he pulled her in for a light hug. Taking their seats opposite each other, he added, "I didn't think you'd make it today. I thought it was too short notice."

"I've always got time for you." The blonde giggled sweetly, shrugging off her jacket. "I was so happy to hear from you. It's nice to be back in touch after all this time. So, what are you doing back here?"

"I'm ready to go back into the ring after my knee surgery – I don't know if you heard about that – but I had a signing here at the local wrestling centre before I re-joined the crew. I figured you had to be here, or you were the last time I knew anything about it, and I'd give it a shot."

"Well I'm very glad you did." Her smile was apparently irremovable. "It's like nothing's changed."

"I do miss my travelling partner from time to time though. Don't get me wrong, Kelly is a great friend, but she doesn't compare to you." He complimented her. "So tell me, how's married life treating you?"

Tiffany chose not to answer this directly. "Here's one thing that's different: I'm pregnant with twins!" The announcement took Evan a few seconds to digest, but then he was grinning at her, wanting to stand up again and hug her. "That's fantastic news! You're going to be the world's greatest mother."

"I hope so."

"There's no hoping about it. You're the sweetest person I know." When she merely giggled again, flattered, he carried on. "So what does Drew think about this? I don't know the guy that well—you know that—but I have this image of him reading all the parenting books on how to be a good Dad. Or am I completely wrong?"

She _wished_ that image was possible. The last time she'd seen Drew, which was just earlier this morning when he stepped out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his naked body, had made for a frosty reception; she wasn't quite done hating him for their honeymoon trauma, and he wasn't quite up for trying to make it up to her when she definitely wouldn't co-operate.

They were nothing more than two strangers living under the same roof. Their marriage was crumbling more and more with each and every passing day.

"No, you're spot on." Tiffany made the choice to lie as she settled back into her seat. "He's so invested in all of it; it's quite a sweet sight actually. Though I think he might be a bit disappointed if at least one of them isn't a boy. I think he wants another wrestler in the family..." It was amazing how easy it was to lie all of a sudden.

"Oh, so you don't know the sex? Isn't it tempting to find out?"

"I've been thinking about it... but maybe I'll wait a little longer to find out. When I eventually start shopping for the babies, it _would_ be nice to know what colours I should be looking for. Neutral doesn't really work for me." A beat later, she shook her head. "I'm sorry; we've been talking about me a lot. What's going on with you? Is there anyone special in your life? The last time I checked, you were with Gail..."

"Right." Evan scratched awkwardly at the back of his neck. "It went well to start with... but you know sometimes when you realize you're better off as friends? That happened for us. I loved our relationship though; I don't regret it."

"You two always seemed really sweet."

"Mhm... I kinda always knew that it wouldn't last. It's just _there_ when you know you've got something good with someone, and it was hard to find with her. Maybe we could have been happy if I'd let a few issues go but no, it's cool, we're good friends again and she's dating Daniel now."

"Daniel Bryan? And you're not jealous – _at all?_"

"Not at all; in fact, I'm really happy for her. So that kind of says something, doesn't it?"

She shrugged. "I guess so. I'm really sorry to hear that."

He repeated her gesture. The smile that had been on his face before easily returned now. "I'm going to go and get us some drinks. Do you want the usual coffee – or wait, can you even have it now? Would you prefer tea? Would that be better?"

"Evan, you worry too much. I will have a hot chocolate though please. Ever since getting pregnant, I've been craving them so badly."

"Okay. One hot chocolate with sprinkles and whipped cream coming up. And don't complain about the calories—" The wrestler added when he saw her expression change. "You're pregnant now so it's acceptable."

"Okay, fine. You've twisted my arm. My good arm at least." She held up her broken wrist with a half-smile. "I'll explain about my mad airport dash when you get back."

"Looking forward to it. You always were a klutz, Tiff. It's good to see some things never change."

Her smile remained long after he'd disappeared. As she glanced around, finally taking in the customers around her who were with their friends and family too, she couldn't help but think about how this one meeting would make her feel happy for the rest of the day. Even if Drew was there when she got home—depending on his schedule for today, of course—she knew she would be able to fake at least a civil greeting towards him.

Evan Bourne just had a way of making everybody feel lighter.

There was a slight vibration in the pocket of her jeans, and she jumped slightly at the sudden sensation before reaching into it to retrieve her cell phone. The text was from Layla and read: _Just saw Eve – she is so in denial about Alex. Hilarious! Btw, just texting to let you know that apparently AirBourne is in town. Did you know that? If you happen to see him before he leaves, be sure not to start crushing on him again! Just kidding – I know you're all loved up with Drew ;) Lay x_

Feeling the colour rush to her cheeks, Tiffany hid her phone, stuffing it into the handbag she'd brought with her. Well... she hadn't expected to remember the little crush she had on Evan at the start of her career while she was with him, so this little reunion would be awkward for her from now on. As long as she let it be, actually.

"So they were out of sprinkles, but I added a little bit of cinnamon for you. I think you like it – I remember you eating cinnamon buns that one time at the airport. You had four in a row or something and I remember saying to you..."

"How could I possibly eat them all because I was so small." She finished his sentence with a nod. "Yes, I definitely remember. Thank you for the drink," she added.

He placed the delicious looking and smelling beverage in front of her before taking his seat again. After having a sip of his own regular coffee, he grinned. "Just like old times."

"Just like old times." She echoed, dipping her pinky finger into the cinnamon-covered cream and then popping it into her mouth. The taste was heavenly. "I miss you guys so much – of course I have a special place in my heart for my old travelling partner though. There must be some good stories going around the rumour mill by now..."

As Evan went into detail on a few of the ones he recalled, Tiffany laughed along with him, thinking about how nice this was... but mainly about the crush she'd developed on him while in the WWE before meeting Drew...

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So there's the next chapter. Please review :)

_Coming Up: An empty house spells trouble for The Miz and Maryse._


	14. You Feel Like Paradise

**The Good Life**

_AN._ Thank you to **xsostarstruck, sophia0401, livelaughspear, xHalosandwings, xTwistedxImperfectionx, StephanieMcmahon101, Nadia26, quteash **_&_ **BigRedMachineUK** for reviewing the last chapter.

Thanks very muchly! :)

* * *

_Chapter Fourteen – You Feel Like Paradise_

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Staring out of her kitchen window with a glass of wine in her hand, Maryse looked very much thoughtful in her pose. She'd been stood there for a couple of minutes already, unmoving but pondering over recent events in her life and, more specifically, her husband.

She was shocked to realize how little she'd thought about him since the tour started, and a phone call from him this afternoon – one which she had missed thanks to her shopping marathon with Layla – proved one simple thing: their marriage had never been so in desperate need of fixing as it did right now.

To think their second wedding would be underway in a matter of weeks...

She stiffened slightly at the thought of walking down the aisle in a stunning dress, all adoring eyes on her, but ultimately feeling like the day is a sham and she shouldn't be doing it at all. Would that be her in reality? More importantly, would she and Ted still be so terribly broken?

A weary sigh too late, her cold stance was broken as Mike stepped into the kitchen and – on the verge of complimenting her husband's taste in widescreen televisions – saw the tension on her face. "Upset again?" He ventured instead, giving a smirk to show he was simply teasing.

"I'm sorry, this is so stupid." She threw a hand up and rolled her eyes at her behaviour. "You said you wanted a normal night with me and I'm here depressed about my husband. Let's just have dinner and watch a movie or something."

"Only if you're sure. We can talk about whatever you want – like I told you, I'm here to listen."

She simply stared at him for a quiet moment, wondering how she'd struck so lucky to have such a good friend in him. The girls were wonderful to talk to about anything, but on most counts they were biased on the topics; Mike allowed her to make up her own mind and figure things out for herself.

"It's fine. Really." A half-smirk touched her glossed lips – reminiscent of the character she often showed to everyone on the outside. "You deserve a night off from your babysitting duties."

"It's not babysitting with you. You're a strong, well-opinionated woman and you can take care of yourself. I just like to be there from time to time."

"You know when you say things like that I start to think..."

"What?" His gaze was suddenly more focused. "You think what?"

"Nothing." She settled. Timidly, she brushed past him on her way into the living room. "So, what movie did you choose?"

"I didn't. I thought you might want to pick one. Unless you're one of those women who take about an hour to decide what they want to watch..."

From the DVD selection over at the window, she glanced at him, saw the playful smirk she'd come to like about him, and laughed. "You know what? This is going to be fun: just you, me and—" She held up _Dirty Dancing_ in its cover. "—Patrick Swayze. Bet you didn't know I was a fan of this."

"Don't tell me you perfected the dance as well?"

"Surely you've seen my dancing from in the ring? Eve and I still talk about that dance-off with Ted and R-Truth from time to time. I think it's obvious from the amount of laughter she bursts into just how bad I am..."

He took a seat on the white leather couch and settled back. "Well I'm ready when you are."

"Ted always complains that we watch this movie too often—he's always into his action movies and whatever. They're fine but I just... I don't know, I guess at heart I'm a romantic. I believe in all of that." She pressed a hand to her cheek, embarrassed. "Now you know my deepest secret. I, Maryse Ouellet, love chick flicks and romance. And everything to do with love."

"I already knew that." Miz chuckled, patting the seat next to him when she'd finished putting the DVD in the player. "You talk about Ted so much and how much you wish it would work with him that it's hard not to realize how invested you are in it all. It's sweet."

"There was me thinking everyone sees me as a bitch."

"You're not – you just put on an act." The movie started and Maryse dimmed the lights with a special remote. "Honestly? I think you're one of the most beautiful, deserving women I've come across. If things don't work out between you and Ted, they'll be a queue of guys forming just to get to know you. I mean, I'm glad _I_ did."

He seemed genuine enough, but the former Diva couldn't help the uncomfortable feeling growing deep inside of her. Or the overwhelming compassion she felt for him in that moment. "Um, the Chinese food should be here soon. Let's just..." She leaned back on the couch, slightly away from him, as if not trusting herself with him. "Let's just watch the movie."

**

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**

"I think that's you there... and there, too... whoa, the camera was on you for a whole... well at least seven seconds there. I'd call that an achievement."

Logan Torres, trying very hard to paint a positive light on the music video currently playing on television, turned to the girl sitting beside him with a warm smile. Emily DiBiase simply ignored him, arms folded tightly across her chest while she slumped. She was definitely not happy.

"Is this mood because you thought getting the part in this music video would get you more exposure than this? Because really... you look... _visible_ in it. It's fine – and it's on television. What more could you ask for?"

"Just stop talking." The blonde pinched the bridge of her nose with her fingertips. This was a gesture surprisingly alike to her mother's whenever she was in a terrible mood. "It's not about the music video. I _know_ I look good in it, and I'm already thinking about getting an agent to manage me for my next endeavour."

"Right..." He spoke slowly, wondering if it would be cruel to laugh at her for her melodramatic ways. It really was just so... Emily-like for her to talk like that. A beat later, his thoughts were elsewhere and concern took over. "Then what's wrong with you? Please don't tell me you're sulking because you have to spend a few hours with me? I'm sorry your mom isn't feeling well and wants you out of the way but—"

"Tyler said he was considering breaking up with me."

Just as the sentence had intended, Logan was silenced for a while after it was said. He tried to decipher the words while he stared at her, while she looked away and shook her head at the floor, and soon came to the realization that it all just sounded so absurd to his ears.

"I'm sorry... what?" He scratched at his messy hair. Then he rolled his eyes. "But why? I thought you two were, like, the perfect couple. Or at least that's what Madeline and Becky told me when I passed them in the hall at school and they told me to vote for you and him as King and Queen at tomorrow's dance..."

"I showed him the video and me dancing in the background of it... and he just said that he was expecting more from me. I'd let him down or something. I keep trying for him but I'm never good enough for him." With precise timing, she furiously brushed away a tear sliding down her cheek. "But whatever—" Her shrug was a little too nonchalant for his liking. "It doesn't matter. I'm sure he won't. We're the 'It' couple at school, you know? We're perfect together."

The teenage boy wanted to argue against this, but from the last time they were together—when he told her what he really thought of her boyfriend and even admitted to some of his own feelings towards her—he made sure he didn't open his mouth for that purpose. He did, however, say something else. "Do you want a drink from the fridge? I think I'll have a soda."

"Seriously?" Her eyes followed him as he stood to his feet and walked in the direction of the kitchen. "That's all you have to say? What about your speeches and the stupid things you say in them?"

"Well those stupid things – as I recall – are not what you like to hear, so I'll refrain." The fridge door swung open and he rooted inside for two cans. By the time he'd closed it again and turned around, she was standing in front of him, arms folded again and a stubborn look on her face. "What is it, Emily?" A weary sigh spilled through his lips.

"I don't know." She was haughty in her answer. "You just usually act in a different way. Don't you want to trash Tyler for what he said?"

"Listen, I get it. You love him to pieces and he's the most perfect boyfriend in the world. So I won't tell you what I really think. I'll convert my thoughts to your weird rationalization of what goes on in your head and simply say: you and Tyler are _amazing_ together. When the time comes, you're going to be Prom King and Queen, and everything in Emily-land will remain just so perfect. You've got it all sorted out."

"There's no need for sarcasm – or rudeness, in fact." She stalked after him when he pushed the cold can into her hand and walked back into the living room.

"I'm not being rude. I'm just... telling you what you want to know." A light chuckle escaped his lips. "Emz, I've known you since we were little kids. Ultimately you want to believe that everything is great in your popular world, and I'm going to let you think that. You always end up yelling at me for anything bad I say about your precious Tyler anyway."

"Is that what you really think about me – that I live in this perfect world where I don't care about anyone but myself? Emily-land, is that what you called it?"

"Well—"

"Hi kids." He didn't have time to take her crestfallen expression into account, and she didn't have the chance to hear his explanation, as Eve trailed downstairs, dressing gown wrapped tightly around her body. Her hair was wet from the shower they'd heard stop a few minutes ago. "Having a good time?"

"Yeah." They both answered in unison, lying.

"Good. Well I'm going to get some water and head up for an early night – I've got the school dance preparations to go through tomorrow in the morning. You kids require so much effort." The brunette teased. "Are you alright down here on your own?"

"Sure, Ms. Torres. I think we're just going to watch television until it's safe to go back to my house."

That's exactly what Logan and Emily did, and they stayed in their jilted positions away from each other on the couch long after Eve had gone back upstairs to her bedroom, just sipping their sodas with their eyes glued to the screen, not really caring about what they were staring at.

**

* * *

**

There was a funny thing about change. Not funny as in laugh until your sides split, but funny as in it seems so out of the blue.

Maryse hadn't known what happened. Just a couple of hours ago she was sitting besides Mike on the couch, stuffing her face with Chinese food—a meal she knew she'd regret if she still wanted to fit into her wedding dress on the big day—and enjoying her favourite quotes all rolled into one classic movie.

Now the credits were rolling and she was looking at him with a curious bravado. He was none the wiser, his eyes following the darkened screen and text scrolling up, but she wasn't letting up. There had been a shift in her mind somewhere in the last ten minutes and she just couldn't let go of one thought.

_I have so much fun with him._

Fun. Exactly what she didn't have with Ted, who might as well be on the other side of the world right now with the lack of communication between them. Okay, so maybe he wanted to get in touch earlier on with the missed phone call... but why didn't he keep on trying? Why didn't he call this evening when she was guaranteed to be in?

"Alright, you got me." Mike turned his spiky head of hair in her direction, a smirk weighing heavily on his handsome features. "I'll admit I liked the movie. It wasn't... terrible. Just don't get me to watch Footloose. Please?"

Now the French-Canadian woman was thinking about all of the moments— or the lack of them—between her and Ted before he left for the UK tour. He didn't make the effort anymore and their relationship wasn't what it used to be – full of love, warmth and a genuine well-being. He used to want to do everything for her...

"Fine." Mike laughed into the silence she was offering. "I'll watch Footloose for you. But only for you. You got that?"

A kiss. That's all she wanted this evening. That and the feeling that someone – even if it wasn't Ted DiBiase – wanted her. Adored her and cherished her. The man sitting beside her now could give her that, couldn't he?

"Maryse... are you alright?"

She barely took in the strange expression on his face as he enquired, and simply went in for the kill. They'd been denying this for far too long anyway. The chemistry was there... what more was there to it? Couldn't she just have one night for herself – not to be self-conscious and not to feel worthless?

To her relief, he didn't pull away when she leaned in and brushed her lips against his. In fact, he seemed to catch on at the last minute, pecking her back when she pulled away to look in his eyes. All they needed was a split second before they were drawn to each other again like magnets, their lips meshed together again unashamedly, grabbing onto clothes as if the other person were a lifeline for their needs.

It was all becoming hot and heavy between the two and it felt great for them both. Mike regrettably stopped, but only to ask, "Are you sure? Do you think it's the alcohol that's making you want this?"

She hadn't even considered the wine. She knew she'd had one more after her first, and then another... and then another... while she thought about her failing marriage, but it never entered her mind that this thing between them was produced because of it. So _maybe _it played a role, but didn't everything – and everyone – merely become more truthful while intoxicated? _Maybe_ Mike was what she needed right now.

"No, I don't." She answered – not entirely truthful but not really caring. "Just kiss me, Mike. Don't you want to?"

"Oh, I've wanted to for a long time."

To her ears, his tone sounded slightly devious, but she put it down to being caught up in the moment and not paying much attention, before returning to his lips. There was more passion between them than there had been for Ted and herself in the past few months. God, it felt good to have the sexual tension back...

His phone vibrated in the pocket of his jeans, and Maryse giggled as she pulled away, lips swollen and a full smirk on them. "Wow, you're _really_ into this, aren't you?"

"Just ignore it." He said and kissed her again. "Ignore it."

They did. The Miz lowered her carefully onto the couch and moved on top of her, their make-out session becoming something a little more heavy. When he broke away from her to take off his top, she repeated his actions with her dress, and bit down on her bottom lip as she stared into her eyes. "I want this," she told him simply.

"You have _no idea_ how much I want this too." He replied.

Wrapping her legs around him, she stared up at the ceiling as he started trailing kisses all down her neck... onto her chest... onto her stomach...

Something was telling her to stop this – to think of Ted – but a world of ecstasy was pulling her in and not wanting to give her release, and Maryse found, a short five seconds later, that she definitely was not going to complain.

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So there's the next chapter. Please review :)

_Coming Up: The housewives grab the guys to make them help with the school dance preparations. With them all under one big school roof, what new developments will take place?_


	15. New Findings

**The Good Life**

_AN._ Thank you to **MizEveTedfan, gabrielxdivaa, xSiimplyCrazeedx, xHalosandwings, Cena-Wilson-Crazy, xsostarstruck **_&_ **xTwistedxImperfectionx** for reviewing the last chapter.

Thanks very muchly! :)

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_

_Chapter Fifteen – New Findings_

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_

"I love Saturday mornings. They're the perfect opportunity to lie-in and really relax, you know what I mean?" The blissful smile on Layla's face disappeared sharply as she angled her head in Eve's direction. "So why am I spending mine in some dust-filled school hall helping out for a dance that has nothing to do with me?"

For the second time that morning, the picked-upon brunette rolled her eyes at her friend, choosing not to answer – what she assumed was – the rhetorical question; the housewife had already stated she didn't "own" a single kid and should be ruled out by default, but none of the ladies listened to her usual drama-filled rants, which led her to stick it out anyway and say she was doing it out of the goodness of her heart.

Out of the people ignoring her, Maryse seemed to be the least bothered one – or rather she was trying to conceal a massive hangover under huge sunglasses, which didn't really help her case, especially when she had to keep running off to the staff bathrooms every twenty minutes or so.

Tiffany – as bubbly as ever despite complaining about morning sickness earlier – shot a smile at Eve from across the table as she pulled out a green and black banner from an old box. "Imagine Logan winning the award for King. Wouldn't that make you proud?"

Distracted by the task she'd set herself, she shrugged. "I think Chris would be the proud parent to be honest. Unfortunately enough he should be here soon."

"That won't be at all awkward with Alex here too," smirked Layla, who loved confrontation as much as the next girl.

"What with Alex and I deciding to be just friends, I'm hoping it'll be fine. Besides at least they won't be the only guys here. He said he would bring Mike and John along to help too."

Layla visibly perked up at the mention of that last name, while Maryse did the exact opposite and slumped down in her seat further, feeling the nausea rising up once again.

"They're all coming here?"

"Yes, Lay." Tiffany beamed at her. "Didn't you know Eve's seductive charms work well on Alex and she can convince him to do anything for her?"

"That is not true! I asked for one favour from one friend to another..."

"Mhm, sure."

"Can we just get back to work please? Lunch is on in two hours and we still haven't sorted out the stage yet."

An amused hush fell over the women as they all returned to their assignments – and Maryse returned to thinking about her night with Mike, consequently making herself feel worse.

Tiffany dusted off the banner and smiled to herself while bringing it over to the small stage, thinking about Evan Bourne and their friendly conversation on the phone last night. Layla thought about John while she worked and wondered how they would interact with each other after their last encounter.

As the school would practically be a ghost town until early this evening it wasn't hard to distinguish the rattle of a car engine as it stopped in the car park outside a few minutes later, and a flurry of emotions ran through the girls—save for Tiffany—while they waited for an entrance to be made.

"Good morning, ladies." The Miz' confident tone rang out as he led the guys' in. "Hope we're not too late."

"Not really," smiled Eve as they stopped a short distance away to survey their messy surroundings. After Maryse excused herself to the bathroom, looking very pale all of a sudden as his eyes watched her go, she continued. "I'm really grateful that you all came along to help, so thank you."

"We're happy to, Eve." Alex stepped forwards and placed a hand on her shoulder tenderly, smiling innocently.

She repeatedly told herself – in thought of course – not to react girlishly before edging away from him and addressing the real matter. "I thought you could help Tiff with the banner, Alex, before making a start on the tables and chairs set-up. She keeps telling me not to worry but I do anyway, so if she tries to climb on any chairs to put the banner up, please stop her and do it yourself. I trust you agree with me considering you're a soon-to-be doctor."

The pregnant blonde laughed at her serious tone. "I think he's got it, Eve."

"I don't have specific jobs for you two, but you can either help me find leftover plastic plates and cups from last year's do, or you can clear up the room a little and blow up balloons with Layla. It's your choice."

John took one glance at Layla, who stared back a moment later with a strained expression on her face, as if she wanted to give out much more to him, before feigning a smile in the brunette's direction. "Plates and cups sound better to me – if you don't mind?"

"Not at all."

"I guess that leaves us together." Mike gave a polite smile to Layla as he walked towards her, but both were left disappointed by the fact they didn't have their first choices by their sides.

"So, what do you need me to do?" John attempted to ignore a certain pair of eyes on him as he looked down at the table. "Am I searching for the plates or the cups first?"

Eve heard the familiar smooth purr of a sports car pulling in outside and stiffened slightly, before turning to him with a bright smile. "I think my ex-husband is going to walk in at any minute, so how do you feel about ditching this place and going to the grocery store for supplies?"

Now his smile was genuine. "You know what? That definitely works for me."

* * *

When Maryse emerged from the staff bathroom a cautious five minutes later, unable to empty the contents of her stomach, she didn't expect to find Mike waiting for her, leaning against the doorway coolly with a friendly smile on his face.

The sight alone was enough to make her stomach churn but she tried not to let it show, awkwardly croaking out, "Aren't you supposed to be in the hall helping out?" instead.

"Aren't you supposed to be the leader of the decorating committee?" He countered smoothly. "But you're back here too, not looking like you're doing much work."

Defences up, she suddenly walked over to him and yanked him inside, peering out into the empty hallways for assurance of privacy before shutting the door behind her. Enclosed in there together, she felt even more uncomfortable, but powered on, folding her arms over her chest as she stared at him through darkened sunglasses. "I'm back here because I'm hungover—" She hissed at him in true Queen Maryse nature. "—_because_ I got too drunk last night and did some regrettable things. On top of that, I had to cancel an appointment for a dress fitting with Ricardo later on tonight due to feeling like this. So enough of your wise comments, okay?"

"Regrettable?" Mike took a step closer to her. "Do you regret what we did?"

"Of course I do!" She pressed a hand to her hot forehead in disbelief. "I am a married woman, Miz. I've been with Ted for nearly eighteen years. Eighteen! I just threw it away for a night of passion. We committed a _sin_. It was the ultimate mistake."

"You're a married woman – but are you happy?"

"Excuse me?"

"Isn't it convenient how you left out the part about being a happily married woman and just pointed out the facts instead? I know you, Maryse."

"You do _not _know me—"

"I know you well enough. We've talked so much about Ted and how he makes you feel. You said yourself that you don't like how worthless you feel around him now. You don't like how you were once the priceless power couple on Monday Night Raw and now you feel like he's reaping the benefits of that and you're stuck with this life." Slowly, he removed her sunglasses, relieved when she let him. Her eyes stared up into his. She was stiff as she listened. "You don't like how you've grown apart, but you realize there's nothing much you can do about it. You don't like what's happened to you and Ted.

"But you like the possibility of us—" His tone was suddenly softer. "—I know we've grown close over the past couple of weeks. You can trust me, you like me and you see a side to me that you can't see in your own husband. I've been there for you when he hasn't. While he's performing in front of a crowd somewhere in England, we've been here together... just talking. I _understand_ you.

"So, do you know what I'm going to say to you right now? I don't think we 'committed a sin' at all, and I think the only mistake you made was staying with Ted for so long when he makes you so unhappy. Just face it: when we had sex last night—don't wince at me—we had _sex_, Maryse. I don't think it's anything to be ashamed of. When we had sex, you felt something with me – something you hadn't felt in a long time."

Her lips were suddenly dry. Wetting them, she opened her mouth to reply. "But..." And found herself trailing off, the urgency of her own words not coming to her in the moment. Just stuck in her thoughts while she took in his.

"But nothing." A ghost of a smile touched his lips as he gave her sunglasses back to her. "We had a good time. I don't regret it and – deep down – I don't think you do either."

It took a good few seconds for her to realize he was leaning in towards her. Trapped in a tornado of emotions taking her over, she merely stood as he kissed her softly and then brushed past her to leave. She was left staring at the wall, eyes focused, but wondering what the hell her next move would be.

Despite his speech, Mike hadn't accounted for one thing, and as he left he didn't spot a certain pregnant housewife hiding behind the wall as he passed by to step back into the hall. Tiffany watched until he disappeared, shocked at the secret she'd just learnt.

* * *

A short ten minutes later, John and Eve were trailing along the aisles of the grocery store – the very same store where the latter had first met Alex Riley, written him off as a tool and was later shocked to find him as her new neighbour. It was strange how some things worked out.

As the memory was fresh in her mind and rather amusing to think back on now, she had no problem discussing it with the guy beside her, who'd been the one to bring it up in the first place. "The way you described it made it sound like something Miz would do." He chuckled. "Maybe his cocky attitude rubbed off on Alex."

"Really? Mike seems like such a nice guy." The Latina turned away from him to grab a few large-sized bags of pretzels from the shelf. After he offered to take the basket from her and she accepted with a grateful smile, she continued on. "Or is he hiding his true self from us?"

"Nah, Mike's a good guy really." A smirk curved his lips. "He used to be a real player though – smooth talking his way into every girl's panties and telling them what they want to hear. He seems to have settled down here though. Maybe Avidian Lane is a good place to be."

"Well I certainly don't have any issues with it." She shrugged, returning the smile he offered to her. "Though the poker games are new to us. I certainly didn't expect my new neighbours to be so good at it – or to be conned into a date because of it."

"Oh yeah, the famous date." The part-time plumber spoke teasingly as he was ushered into grabbing a few bottles of water from the shelf nearest to him. "Alex won't tell me anything about it but he seems to be smiling a lot more... I guess it was more of a good date than a bad one?"

Her mind briefly went over the details of that night, the way in which he'd been gentleman-line and pecked her on the cheek before she stepped out of the car and went back home, and she replied soon after. "We're just going to be friends. That's all." Clearing things up without discussing the intimate moment that went down between her and Alex seemed to be the way to go. "But it went well considering I was dreading it. So enough about me, Mr. Cena, are there any women on your mind?"

John was careful not to let his facade drop. There was _definitely_ one woman on his mind, and he was not willing to think of her in this moment. He needed an escape from Layla El; something completely new and different instead of going back into the past. "No-one so far."

"So far? I like your optimism. So tell me, are you a player like your friend, Miz, or are you one of those guys who act awkward around women? Something tells me awkward isn't your style..."

"You know what? I always thought that _maybe_ Maryse was the nosiest woman in Avidian Lane, but I think it could be you."

Mock-offended at him, she hit him on the shoulder, and laughed when he pretended to be hurt from it. "I might not know you that well, _Cena_—" She raised an eyebrow when mentioning his last name. "—but something tells me you don't have much luck with women at all. Am I right?"

"Hey, you've seen me at the poker games. Are you just saying that because of your jealousy at my skills? I am better than you after all..." He trailed off.

"Oh, is that what you think? You wait until the next game: I'm going to show you what real skill looks like. You've just made an enemy out of me, John."

"Quaking in my sneakers over here." He retorted drily, though a friendly smile brightened his features as they crossed over into the next aisle. "We don't even have to wait until next time. Name a place and date. I'll be there to kick your ass."

"You're on." Eve offered out a hand and he shook it with his free one. "I have to say," she admitted after they'd stopped laughing, "I don't think I've seen this side to you. I mean, I know we haven't really spoken much – considering I know Alex more out of the three of you since you arrived – but you seem a lot more laid back and chilled. Other times you seem... broody."

"Broody?" He shook his head at a number of products they were passing now. "Just what every guy wants to hear he is. No, I can be fun – I don't think I've really settled down just yet. Give it time and you'll see the real John Cena."

"The guy who scored dinner and a movie with a hot girl named Courtney and provided a terrible date for her?"

"It didn't go terribly. It just... didn't go very well." John laughed when she did. His explanation did seem a bit ridiculous. "I had my mind on other things and I wasn't well prepared. The next time I go on a date, I will wow whoever the woman is off of her feet. Trust me."

"Another bet you'll lose, I'm sure." Her comment was playful. A beat later, she cleared her throat. "Hmm, I _really_ didn't think our conversation would be so... fun. We should probably focus on getting some chips for later on tonight. I think we've got everything else."

John silently agreed about their 'fun' conversation as they walked in the right direction for their desired food. He didn't know Eve all that well—only gathered bits of information about her from Alex, though her jiu-jitsu training impressed him—but he knew he'd see her in a different light from now on. She was a nice person to be friends with – it was no wonder Alex Riley saw something in her it had taken him a while to spot.

Maybe this was the start of something new for the two of them – a connection of some sort – and John Cena, glancing at her now with a faint smile as she picked out different flavours of potato chips, didn't have a problem with that at all.

* * *

So there's the next chapter. Please review :)

_Coming Up: Layla seeks out John at the wrestling centre._


	16. The Invitation

**The Good Life**

_AN._ Thank you to **Cena-Wilson-Crazy, MizEveTedfan, xSiimplyCrazeedx, sophia0401, keepthefaithx, xHalosandwings, xTwistedxImperfectionx, livelaughspear, xsostarstruck **_&_ **ThatGirl54** for reviewing the last chapter.

Thanks very muchly! :)

* * *

_Chapter Sixteen – The Invitation_

* * *

Despite her current living situation with Drew, and despite what she'd found out about Mike and Maryse recently, Tiffany McIntyre was in a good mood as she pulled into Avidian Lane. She'd just been to see her doctor at St. Andrews for another check-up concerning the twins and the visit had cheered her up. Katy told her she was making good progress – she was even starting to show – and that they were both well and healthy.

If one thing couldn't get the blonde down, it was being pregnant and being reminded that in a short amount of time she would be bringing two beautiful babies into the world. It was an exciting time for a first time mother.

A throwaway glance at the large mass of bags sitting in the passenger's seat beside her had her smiling again. She was growing big enough to start using maternity wear—while Eve had told her beforehand in one of their little mother-to-impending-mother chats that it was nothing to be proud of, that she would miss fitting into the jeans that made her ass look good, she merely shook her head and grinned. She couldn't wait for it all to start.

After backing into the driveway, collecting the bags together and locking the car, the petite blonde caught sight of Maryse. The French-Canadian woman was sitting on her porch with wedding magazines surrounding her – not an entirely unusual sight – but this time round, knowing all that she did about the affair she was carrying out with Mike, Tiffany couldn't help but notice she didn't look as invested in it as a bride-to-be should.

She smiled awkwardly as Maryse waved at her before walking into her house. She didn't really know what to make of her friend and wasn't quite prepared to confront her about it. And in the meanwhile, she had other things – and people – to deal with in her own life. One of these people was coming towards her now...

"Should you be carrying all that?" Drew enquired curiously, eyes flickering from her swollen stomach to the shopping bags. He took them off of her and brought them into the bedroom.

She followed after him and leant against the doorway. "I'm fine." She answered. Her reply wasn't of the polite standards he was used to but then again, he wasn't surprised at her attitude towards him. It had been like this for days. "The babies are fine, by the way – I have a picture if you want to see them."

She passed her husband a small sonogram picture and watched his expression change as he stared at it. Though at this point in time their twins passed off as small tadpole-like images, the smile on his face was mesmerizing, and she instantly felt guilty for not inviting him along to the appointment. He still deserved to be a part of this no matter what he'd done on their honeymoon.

"Sometimes this all seems so surreal." His soft Scottish lilt had her warming up to him. "You know?"

"Yes, I know what you mean." She answered. Straightening herself out a short moment later, she asked, "Did any mail come for me while I was gone?"

"It's on the table." He answered, still distracted.

The housewife left him to it and sauntered into the living room to pick up the small pile of letters waiting for her. They were mostly bills, but one in particular caught her attention; she recognized the hand-writing on it and felt her smile growing instantly at the small fact.

_Tiffany_, it read on a neatly folded-up piece of lined paper, _I know writing to you seems totally old school and I wouldn't be surprised if you were laughing at me now for it._ She did in-fact laugh at this point, but at the cuteness of the words rather than what he was suggesting. _But I can't remember your email address and the tickets I've attached to this had to come by post anyway. So yeah, you might be wondering what tickets I'm talking about. Call me crazy but when we met up for coffee I got the feeling you missed the wrestling world and we talked about it a lot, so I figured I'd pull a few strings. I got you a couple of tickets for a Raw show – they also include backstage passes. I hope you can make the dates on there because they were the only ones available. If you're not able to go don't worry about it. Let me know either way._

_Evan._

Running a fingertip over his name at the bottom, Tiffany gave another smile that afternoon. Then she left the note aside and reached into the envelope for the tickets. Studying them, she noticed the dates and realized she wouldn't be busy at all. Fantastic news for her, as she couldn't possibly imagine saying no to Evan Bourne. He was the perfect distraction for her right now.

Maternity clothes shopping forgotten about, she rooted around for her cell phone and set about writing a message to him. It read: _Just got your letter. I did laugh but only because I thought it was adorable. Thank you so much for the tickets! I'll be there and you better be hanging out with me for most of the night. Tiff x_

A short time after stuffing the letter and tickets to the Raw show in her handbag, she got a reply from him.

_Great! I thought you wouldn't want to with the pregnancy and everything. I know Drew can get you into a Smackdown show easily but then you wouldn't get to see me. I'm definitely going to be your chaperone for the night – you're not getting rid of me that easily ;)_

Tiffany giggled to herself and texted back: _One thing that hasn't changed is your arrogance, I see. No, I'm kidding... sort of :P I think Drew's going to be with the Smackdown crew but I'll definitely be coming. I'll find someone else to give the ticket to – if that's okay? X_

Ping! He was quick with his replies. _It's fine. Bring whoever you want – maybe one of the girls wants to tag along? I don't mind. Gotta go. Kofi is threatening to kick my ass in our training session if I don't get off the phone and you know I've gotta go prove him wrong! ;) I'll call you or something. Better yet, give me your email? Take care of yourself, Tiff._

She wasted no time in handing out her email address along with a couple more kisses, and then slipped her phone back into her bag. Who knew that today would turn out so well?

"I'm going to make some lunch before I go for my meeting. I'm heading back on the Smackdown tour as soon as they get back from the UK." Drew explained as he emerged from the bedroom, doe eyes gone from the picture of the twins and business mode back on. "Do you want anything?"

"No, I'm fine." She smiled at him before heading into the bathroom.

All her thoughts were on Evan Bourne and she didn't mind one little bit.

* * *

Determined and focused, Layla El Regal wore a confident expression on her face as she stared out at the entrance to the local wrestling centre, straightening out the creases of her hot pink mini-dress in the meanwhile. From the moment her eyes opened in bed this morning she decided that something had to change in her life, and that that something was her relationship status with John Cena.

As of late, his attitude irked her—not that it wasn't warranted—and spending most of his time on Saturday with Eve and ignoring her had been the final straw. So okay, it was the first time seeing each other since their night together, but was it really that wrong of her to expect a better outcome than what she received?

Stalking towards the building, flicking back her perfectly straight locks and fighting the urge to check her make-up in her compact mirror, the former Diva didn't know what she was going to say to him once she had his attention. Well not exactly, anyway. She planned to get him talking and just go from there.

Just as she pressed her palm against the glass door to push it open, her cell phone rang in her purse and she was distracted enough to check to see who was disturbing her plan. "Urgh," she rolled her eyes skywards and pressed the reject button before slipping it back out of sight. Her husband just didn't get that she didn't want to talk to him every day, did he?

She was back on track again in a matter of seconds and this time made it through the doors – into the hustle and bustle of a whole different world. A ghost of a smile touched her glossed lips; a few years ago, she would have been in their positions, training her ass off for a chance to get what she'd already had and lost. Her smile dried right up. No, she wasn't _that_ woman anymore, and she was here for another reason than to wallow.

John Cena was hard at work on the treadmill, shirt off and iPod plugged in. When Layla found him, she stopped for a moment to _appreciate_ his physique—then just a moment later, after biting down on her bottom lip and losing herself entirely, she decided to approach him.

He looked none too pleased to see her when she stopped in front of the machine and placed her hands on her hips, an expectant look on her face. He didn't bother taking out his headphones or turning down the volume. As far as he was concerned, she wasn't worth his time.

"I will keep standing here until you acknowledge me." She spoke after an unnecessary round of silence. "Try me, John. I'm not the type to give up."

"What do you want, Layla?" He gave up and pressed a button to stop the treadmill before stepping down onto solid ground and facing her. His music player was off and it was just them: the sooner this conversation was over and done with, the sooner he could get back to his exercise routine. "Don't you have a shopping marathon to get to? Your husband's money isn't going to waste itself."

Ignoring the last jibe, she answered, "Yes – I'm meeting Eve at one. But is that really the point here? And speaking of Eve, I wanted to know what that stunt was about on Saturday..."

He seemed amused as he stared into her steely eyes. "Stunt? What stunt?"

"We had the chance to talk things over but you chose to spend all your time with her instead. Hiding away from me by using her? Classy."

"I wasn't using her. In case you hadn't noticed, I'm not you." That stung, but she didn't let it show. He continued. "So sue me, I didn't want to spend time with you – we're not exactly close. I chose to spend time with Eve... and you know what? It was fun. I had a great time forgetting about you when I was with her. I can see why Alex is interested in her."

"Well how lovely for you. Can I ask you one thing though? How much longer do you expect to avoid me for? We live opposite each other now—we're going to be running into each other a lot."

John brushed past her and made to head for the locker room so he could collect his stuff together and go. He wasn't in the right state of mind to carry on training anymore. "What do _you_ want from me?" He asked when she followed him around. "We don't have to talk if we don't want to but you're always... there. Aren't you done toying with me yet?"

"Please hear me out." For the first time since stepping inside the building, she was finally relaxing with him, and he eyed her cautiously as they reached the room. Her tone was cautious while she watched him open the locker door. "John, I never meant to hurt you – at least not like this, and not for a second time. I get it; I'm selfish and I'm conceited and I don't deserve someone like you. I'm not the person you want me to be.

"But when we were together last week, I felt like the person I used to be, and you made me feel good about myself again. I'm not trying to 'toy' with you—like you said—but I am trying to understand the sudden change in my life. You put me through so many different emotions and I act out towards you because I don't know my every move when I'm with you. And that scares me."

He stopped halfway through zipping up his duffel bag and turned to her. This was the most genuine he'd ever seen her—the look on her face reminded him of the old them. The old John Cena and Layla El... and there was that familiar tug at his heartstrings as he felt the deep connection between them stir up again. There would always be a part of him that felt something for her; she was his weakness, bad-hearted woman or not.

"It's not good enough." His voice sounded oddly calm and he went back to his duties. "Why can't you just grasp the fact that we're never going to be what we were before? You're married now—"

"To a man I don't love!"

"Well that makes me feel so much better!" John stressed over her exclamation. "Do you even understand what happened? We planned our life out together; you got into the business and you said you would get me there too – then we could be the perfect couple. Then you met William Regal and everything changed, didn't it? You saw what you wanted to see—security, money and a big house. And what would you get with me? None of that. You forgot about me."

"I made a mistake." Layla was shocked to discover she was close to tears. She sounded on edge and it scared her more than ever. This wasn't how their conversation was supposed to go. "I can never be sorry enough for what I did to you. Yes, I got swept up in a world I'd never been in before... but I _never_ forgot about you. How could I? You're the only person I've ever fallen in love with before – properly and truly."

A stilted silence grew between them and she dared to take a step towards him. She sniffed, hoping that he hadn't noticed the few tears trailing their way down her cheeks. He had, and it took him all of twenty seconds to give in to his desires, softly dry them with his fingertips, and then lean in to capture her lips in their most passionate kiss to date.

A weary sigh escaped his mouth when he pulled away from her entirely a minute or so later. He grabbed his stuff before turning back to her. "I can't let you keep doing this to me." He spoke matter-of-factly – more to himself than her. "I need simple right now, Lay. You are not simple. You're the furthest thing from it."

"So you're just going to kiss me like that and leave me alone? For good?"

John turned at the doorway, into her crestfallen expression. He wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her again. But he just couldn't. There was too much bad blood between them and it blurred what should otherwise have been clear vision. "I guess so." He shrugged eventually. "After all this time I still can't see that us _isn't _an option. I need to get my head sorted out when it comes to you."

After a few minutes of staring at the now-empty doorway when he left, Layla leaned against the locker door behind her, for once uncaring of the dirt it would leave on her outfit, and stared up at the ceiling for a good while. Incoherent thoughts merged together in her mind and had her lost for words.

It took all of her might to keep her emotions in check as she walked – as confidently as she could – out of the wrestling centre and made her way back to her car.

* * *

So there's the next chapter. Please review :)

_Coming Up: Maryse is in for a shock when Ted returns home early._


	17. Honey, I'm Home

**The Good Life**

_AN._ Thank you to **xSiimplyCrazeedx, xHalosandwings, BigRedMachineUK, Chelsea, MizEveTedfan, ThatGirl54, xTwistedxImperfectionx, Cena-Wilson-Crazy, sophia0401, Nadia26, xsostarstruck, gabrielxdivaa **_and _**ViperDiva **for reviewing the last chapter.

Thanks very muchly! :)

* * *

_Chapter Seventeen – Honey, I'm Home_

* * *

It was a strange feeling to wake up in Mike's arms. It was even stranger to take notice of the small gesture and remember her husband hadn't held her like that in quite some time.

Stirring gently, Maryse lifted her head from his bare chest and angled it in his direction, placing her eyes on his relaxed facial features while he slept. How did she end up staying at his place for the night? She'd only come over to tell him what they were doing was wrong, that they should stop and he was a bad influence on her. So why was she still here the following morning?

She thought of her empty house. Emily knew she wouldn't be there for the night – having received a hasty text from her saying she'd had one too many cocktails and was spending the night at Tiffany's to sleep it off – and should have left for school by now. Would she have to do the walk of shame, avoiding John and Alex if they were here, all the way across Avidian Lane?

"Mmm..." A soft grumble spilled out of Mike's mouth, distracting her. "Good morning."

"Morning." She echoed, feeling uneasy. "I have to go."

The housewife started to rise, unwinding herself from his grasp. He countered by snaking a hand around her slender waist and pulling her back down beside him again. "You're just gonna up and leave? I'm going to start to feel like I'm being used sooner or later." He gave an easy smirk. "Stay a little longer. I don't have to be at work for another hour."

"No, I really have to go." She was firm and started rooting around for her clothes. It appeared they were discarded carelessly all over his floor, which would make the next task of changing very tricky.

Aware of his eyes following her every movement, the blonde tried to speed up the process, only to fall short at the last hurdle when she couldn't place her attention on her heels. She risked a glance at Mike – he was twirling one of her precious Louboutins in his hand and resting easily against the headrest. She tried not to look at him as she grabbed it and went in search for the missing link to her exit.

Try as she might, Maryse knew she couldn't deny the thrill that shot up and down her spine when she was intimate with the guy. He was fantastic and skilled in every way, making her feel needed with each delicate touch on her skin. Whenever the housewife was feeling low and unlike her superior self, he was her favourite pick-me-up – even surpassing the wonders of a shopping trip to the biggest mall in town.

But she also couldn't deny, beyond the deliciousness of a forbidden romance, how bad it made her feel to sneak around behind her husband's back. Ted was away on the UK tour for another few days but it didn't mean she wasn't constantly thinking about him. Whatever their marriage was suffering through, whatever she did in the mean time with The Miz, she was still very much in love with him.

"Got you." She whispered upon returning from a short trip underneath the bed. Hooking it expertly onto her right foot, the French-Canadian woman raised an eyebrow at Mike. "We're done here now."

"Isn't that what you said last night – before we had sex three times? Face it, Miss. Ouellet, you can't enough of me."

She wasn't so sure she liked him using that name for her anymore. It made her feel cheap; dirty beyond anything. If this sudden thing with him had been a one-night stand, maybe she would understand her wild actions – because she would just need a release – but she'd relied on him lately for so much more than that. She relied on him too much.

As he sat there now, smirking at her coolly, she couldn't help but to feel a little nauseous. "Is there another exit out of here?"

Mike stared at her for a moment. Then he laughed. "Oh, you're serious? You always surprise me, Maryse. John's already out though, so it's only Alex downstairs. I'm sure you could slip past him."

"Not if there's another way to get out of here. If there's a chance Emily is still at home, I have to make it look like I'm coming from Tiffany's direction."

"Fine. Head downstairs, into the kitchen and through the back door. Then you can go round the back of the houses until you reach Tiffany's."

"In this dress?" She pointed a manicured finger at the pristine white dress she was wearing. "Uh uh, I don't think so..."

"Your only other option is to face Alex and tell him what you were _really_ doing here."

She let out a deep, seemingly never-ending sigh before turning on her heel and walking as quietly as she could out of the room. Mike cleared his throat, hoping for a kiss goodbye, but she ignored his unsaid request to tend to her own task.

Was this really the Maryse Ouellet she'd become – the naughty high school girl who resorted to climbing out of her boyfriend's window (or back door in this case) to get back home in time before she was caught out? Aside from the rush it gave her to revisit those days, she felt ridiculous as she quietly shut the door behind her, having made it past the blare of the television, and ducked behind the hedges.

_Oh God_, she thought to herself when she caught a glimpse of Eve heading up the driveway, and flattened herself against the wall to hide herself. _This is the trouble I get myself into. What the hell am I doing?_

* * *

By the time the door to the Riley-Mizanin residence opened, Eve's attention was on a particular spot in the backyard. Was it her imagination or was the hedge ruffling around an awful lot? Deciding a moment later that she was worrying far too much about a bunch of leaves, she turned her attention back to what she was supposed to be focusing on.

Only she felt her smile tighten slightly when she saw it was Alex Riley who answered the door, instead of John Cena, who she'd come over to see in the first place. "Oh hi," spoke the brunette. Though she tried to make it seem like she wasn't at all caught off-guard it was written all over her face. "How are you, Alex?"

The man in question gave her a slightly odd look before inviting her in. "I'm good. How about you?"

"I'm great." She shut the door behind her softly.

"Glad to hear it. Can I get you anything to drink or eat?"

It was odd being so friendly with Alex Riley. Her thoughts instantly flickered back to the first time they met and she fought back the urge to laugh as she followed him into the kitchen, past the television that right now was on mute. Who ever thought she would end up being civil towards him?

"No, I'm fine." Her friendly, if not guarded, smile returned to her glossed lips. She watched him while he pulled a beer out from the fridge. "I'm actually here to see John. He said..." Trailing off slightly when she noticed the subtle change to his expression, Eve took a moment to get over it. Then she powered on. "He said we could meet here before going out."

"Really? Where are you going?" Alex caught her eyes.

His stare a tad too intense for her liking, she decided to look at anything but him. This whole conversation screamed "awkward" at her and instantly, she scolded herself for talking before thinking again. She had a habit of doing that—case in point, their date in which she discussed her ex-husband's betrayal and revealed more than she wanted to. "It's a funny story actually."

"Enlighten me."

"Right. Well, you know when we were all helping out with the school dance last Saturday? I really got to know John and I figured he wasn't such a bad person. I guess he thought the same about me because the next thing I knew, we were making plans to meet up. I reckon we could set up a great... friendship—" She gulped unexpectedly. "—there. We made plans for me to show him around the town today."

A strange silence took over the room for a while too long for both of them. Alex had his stare set on the tiled floor beneath them while he cradled his by-now half drunken beer, and Eve was picking at her fingernails, wondering if she was athletic enough to actually lift her foot to put it in her mouth. _Idiot_, she thought to herself.

"So, is he here?" The housewife asked eventually.

He took a step closer to her and she hesitated, unsure what was going through her that possessed her to make the gesture. Alex either didn't notice or didn't care about her odd mood as he placed the bottle down on the counter and took one of her hands in his. "I know we said we wouldn't be anything other than friends," he started as he looked down at their entwined fingers, noticing hers were slightly limp with lack of effort, "but I figured that was because you were dealing with an issue. I didn't... I didn't want to push you into anything. I _thought _eventually we would become more than friends. In the future, maybe. I was pinning my hopes on that."

Eve couldn't bring herself to speak. Her plan had been to come around, collect John, drive him about and simply have a nice day before Logan scolded her for being a bad mother once again. Now here she was dealing with a problem she really didn't want to address right now.

Alex Riley was surprising her again. Why was he always doing that?

"Is there something more than friendship going on with you and John?" He pressed the matter.

They both ignored the sound of Mike thumping around in his bedroom upstairs. The silence was unbearable. At least it was to Eve, who pulled her hand away from his and dug it deep into the pocket of her navy shirtdress. She suddenly felt beyond uncomfortable.

Luckily for her, and unluckily for the guy who'd just poured his heart out, a key in the door interrupted her from giving an answer, and moments later they were joined by John Cena himself. He pulled Eve in for a friendly hug when he spotted her, his smile oddly contagious despite everything. "Hey, you're here. I was just out doing a job. Are you ready to go?"

"Definitely." The Latina nodded and chose to ignore the short greeting between Alex and John, before following the latter out of the door. She could feel Alex's eyes burning a hole into her back as she went. "So—" she said to John after shutting the door in an attempt to distract herself. "—what do you want to see first?"

When John gave a contemplative, possibly over the top look in return as he thought about her question, Eve laughed and told herself to let go of Alex and the horrible look that had been on his face. Today was a day to spend with John Cena and from previous experience, she knew she could find something simple in him. A simple yet fun day out. She needed that more than anything else right now.

* * *

Maryse desperately wanted to believe that she wasn't terribly out of shape, but by the time she had her front door shut behind her, she found herself clutching at her side with a possible oncoming stitch. Who knew it would be so much hard work to sneak from one side of Avidian Lane to the other just to get back to her own house?

Her humble abode was as quiet as she expected it to be, and she took a minute or so for herself to recover and get her breath back. She only hoped nobody had seen her sprint across the road from the back of Tiffany's house; it would be a hard situation to explain.

"Hi, beautiful."

Having relaxed and rested her eyes for a short moment, they snapped right open at the sound of such a familiar voice. She lifted her head and straightened out as—unbelievably so—she caught sight of her husband walking towards her, casually dressed instead of in the suits she so often saw him wear, and with a slight smile on his face.

"You're home." She stated the obvious.

Suddenly she noticed the suitcase by the staircase, the jacket draped over the coat stand that hadn't been there for the past week or so due to his absence. Yes, Ted DiBiase was definitely home. Her heart rate sped right up when she realized where she'd just come from—how she was just thinking about him while in the arms of another man—and a guilty smile flickered across her lips.

"I know you have every right to be pissed off at me and I wouldn't blame you if you wanted to throw me out right now." He outstretched his hands in front of him, as though she would actually do it to him and he had to careful just in case. "Just from the look on your face I know you're not entirely happy to see me. But I thought... I just thought..." He trailed off with a sigh.

It didn't seem to matter to Maryse whether or not he could get his words out. The pure fact that he was here, that he wasn't in the UK and had come home early, warmed her heart more than she knew. Unable to help herself, she grabbed him by the collar and pulled her into him, kissing him with the same lips that had kissed Mike's last night.

"I just thought," he repeated quietly, resting his forehead against hers, "that it didn't matter if I risked never getting my hands on the WWE Championship again over in England. I just had to get home to my wife and tell her how much I love her, how much I cherish her and how much I worship the ground she walks on." He finished that off with a little smirk she'd fallen in love with over the years.

She simply stared, unable to help the smile on her face. Was it so ridiculous of her just to feel an immense pleasure out of Ted being here? She thought it would be hard to see him again when he eventually returned, but now that he was here, there was a part of her that felt secure again. She had him back by her side. As an idea hit her, she voiced it aloud, incredulous. "Did you give up the chance to become champion for me?"

"You told me that I put the company ahead of you a while ago and at the time, I couldn't see where you were coming from. I was only focused on what _I _thought was wrong with our relationship - which was completely selfish of me. And while I do think we still have problems we have to sort through before the wedding, that is if you still want to marry me," Ted lowered his voice, brushing wild strands of her blonde locks behind her ear and stroking her cheek, "I would rather put all my attention into you than my career. I left Vince a message and said exactly that and I hope to God he respects my decision."

He carried on talking, mumbling words that flew right over her head, but all she could see was him. The Ted DiBiase who she married, who nurtured and cared for her in exactly the right way. After biting down gingerly on her bottom lip, she interrupted him. "Of course we're still getting married." She pecked his lips. "There's no question about it. In fact, I say we should make up for lost time... Emily's at school for at least a few more hours—"

"You don't have to say anything else." He swept his wife off of her feet and smiled at the sweet giggle to slip out of her mouth. He truly had missed her so much. Heading towards the staircase, he gave a comment she most certainly agreed with. "I'm really glad you're giving us a second chance."

* * *

So there's the next chapter. Please review :)

_Coming Up: The next poker night arrives and tensions are running high between the residents of Avidian Lane._


	18. Secrets

**The Good Life**

_AN._ Thank you to **MizEveTedFan, gabrielxdivaa, ViperDiva, rocktheworldlew, xHalosandwings, Cena-Wilson-Crazy, mytimeisnow, keepthefaithx, xTwistedxImperfectionx, , LiveLaughSpear **_&_ **xsostarstruck** for reviewing the last chapter.

Thanks very muchly! :)

* * *

_Chapter Eighteen – Secrets_

* * *

Was it possible to change your mind so quickly over a friendly game of poker?

No longer did it seem like such a good idea to go through with it each weekend, especially when lives were entwined and nobody knew a thing about the ordeal they had to go through. That was the trouble with secrets; they were often something to be kept close to the chest and dealt with alone. The stress of it all was almost unbearable.

Even though this would only be their third game with the guys altogether, the housewives of Avidian Lane had changed their minds over the arrangement, deeming it unnecessary to spend time with them all under one roof.

Maryse was cautious of Mike as she approached the house, wondering – if like everyone else – he knew about Ted's early return. Tiffany walked beside her and wondered if there would be any antics between her friend and The Miz she could spot tonight. Eve had her thoughts set on Alex and what he would make of her appearance this evening, while Layla's head was wrapped around just one person: John Cena.

The change in their lives recently had rocked them to their core yet their secretive ways couldn't bring up their anguish – and so they were stuck for the evening under the pretence their moods were perfect and there was nothing wrong.

Shortly after the doorbell rang, John answered to the call. His eyes scanned over their faces – though he made sure not to linger on his ex-girlfriend's distasteful stare for too long – and invited them in. When he and Eve shared a long hug, the women questioned the gesture but knowing the nature of their friendship and all they did about Alex, the Latina ignored them and followed him into the kitchen to help with refreshments.

"Well... that was odd," remarked Tiffany, feeling the most comfortable of the trio left standing there. "Lay, are you alright? You look upset about something."

"I'm fine." Layla faked a smile. "I'm just missing William. That's all."

The trio walked into the games room just in time to see Mike and Alex burst into laughter over a joke one of them had told. Alex sobered first and ran his eyes over the new arrivals with a guarded smile, but he didn't find the eyes of the woman he really wanted to see.

"Ladies," said Mike with the same friendly smirk he usually wore for these games and pulled out a seat for Maryse next to his. "Who's ready to lose to me again?"

Nobody answered, save for Layla, who made an attempt to roll her eyes playfully. This was supposed to be a fun game after all; what was the use in casting her frustrations out for all to see? She would figure a way out of her John Cena problems, even if it took a long time to do it.

Tiffany cleared her throat shortly after taking her seat. Running a hand softly over the beginnings of her baby bump, she asked, "So Mike, how have you been? I don't think I've really asked before but do you have a girlfriend?" A pause came about when she noticed that even Layla was looking at her strangely; clearly these questions were out of the blue when it came to the sweet housewife. "It's just that we know everything about everyone on the street but you seem to be a mystery. Alex and Eve had their date... and well, that thing with John now is clear. But what about you?"

Mike shook his head. "No, there's no girlfriend to speak of. Why – are you thinking about setting me up?"

"Oh no, of course not." She caught Maryse's curious gaze. "I don't think I need to do that at all."

If the look lasted longer than it did then maybe Mike and Maryse would have caught on to the fact she knew something, but as it happened John and Eve came into the room, laughing loudly at something and providing a big distraction for all those in attendance.

"Sorry," apologized the brunette as she took her usual seat. "John was just telling me this really funny thing about his college days. What's going on here?"

"Nothing. We're just about to play." Alex answered for everyone.

The mood was nothing less than awkward as they all settled down for a friendly—or not so friendly—game of poker. The group was disturbed more than they knew but it wasn't the time or the place to show it.

Tiffany thanked John when he handed her a glass of water. "I miss alcohol so much."

"I thought you were too happy being pregnant to care about that," said Layla with a teasing smirk. The former Diva was simply grateful that her attention didn't have to be focused on John, who she'd accidentally-on-purpose noticed was sitting next to Eve and far away from her.

"Lay, I _am_ happy to be pregnant. I just feel left out sometimes."

"You know what?" Maryse suddenly announced. Whatever was on her mind, it had taken her away from examining her perfectly manicured nails. "We girls haven't had a night out in a while. Don't you think that's kind of depressing?"

"It's been a long time." Eve agreed. "It was Tiffany's party, like, three months before her wedding, remember? She got so drunk that she nearly walked into a lamppost, didn't, and then apologized to it."

An appreciative laugh grew for the given fact and the blonde flushed slightly, before narrowing her eyes playfully at her brunette friend. "You started bitching about the fact I would get so much action from Drew and you were jealous because you hadn't had sex in... well, a while."

"Oh, I remember."

"Funny how you've grown quieter though," smirked Maryse.

"You were complaining about Ted and the lack of action – or well, anything – you got from him." Tiffany aimed the conversation towards her fellow blonde. "Huh... I guess that's not a problem anymore, is it?"

In the next ten seconds, the French-Canadian woman decided that something was definitely up with the newlywed. Was it just pregnancy hormones or was she actually taking a stab at being bitchy? It was so out of the norm for Tiffany, and it seemed as though her words were designed to hurt her specifically.

Alex's eyes were on John and Eve. The two were smiling at each other, talking amongst themselves and looking closed off in their own little world. He shook his head at nothing in particular as he turned away, and soon stood to his feet. "I'm not feeling so great all of a sudden... I think I'm gonna lie down in front of the television for a little bit. Enjoy your game."

Mike's eyes followed his friend as he left the room. "I wonder what's up with him." A beat later, he shrugged. "Oh well. Okay, ready. Everyone pick up your cards and let's play."

* * *

When Alex Riley was found fifteen minutes later, he was surprised by the company and sat up from his sprawled position on the couch to offer an available seat. A friendly smile curved his lips when she gave one of her own.

"Did you get bored out there or something?"

"I guess you could say my head just wasn't in it," said Tiffany, still smiling. "I thought being here with you instead of out there was a better choice. I don't know what's happening tonight but the mood has shifted. Everyone's so much more competitive."

"Yeah, I noticed. I also noticed that you were acting strangely towards Mike and Maryse. Is everything okay there?"

The blonde hesitated on her answer. She and Alex had spent a bit of time together hours before the school dance and she'd grown to like him a lot more, seeing the potential in his relationship with Eve in the meanwhile. He'd made sure to look after her pregnant self—just like the brunette ordered—and was a caring person.

Would it be right to tell this man what she knew?

Eventually, Tiffany decided on a firm yes. "This might come as a bit of a shock but I swear I'm telling the truth. I overheard Mike and Maryse on the day of the dance... they're sleeping together. Maryse is cheating on Ted with him."

For a moment there was complete silence. When Alex returned to her eyes, she was surprised to find there wasn't the least bit of shock in them. He shrugged awkwardly. "I know."

"You _know?_"

"I only figured it out recently. I walked into Mike's room the other day and smelt her perfume. At first I thought it was some random chick because that's The Miz for you, but it was obviously Maryse's. I asked him and he confirmed it."

Now she was the one surprised. "And that didn't set you off or anything?"

"Well... no. I've known Mike for so long that it really doesn't come as a shock to me that he's like this. He said something on the first day of us being here that he liked the look of Maryse; I just didn't think he would actually grab the opportunity. It's just in his nature, I guess."

Tiffany leaned back into a more comfortable position and lowered her voice. "You mean he's done this before?"

At her naivety, not that he could blame her for not knowing, Alex gave a little smile. "Of course he has. He plays people. At first it was just girlfriends and then he got bored so he decided to move onto more... complicated relationships. He says what they want to hear, gets into their panties and ultimately destroys their relationships. I don't know if he plans to be so destructive but he gets it done."

"Why are you even friends with him if that's what he does? And is Maryse just another number to him?"

"We've been friends since high school. No matter what he does, he's still a close friend. As for Maryse? I have no idea. For your friend's sake I hope not."

She had so many questions to ask him but knew he couldn't answer them. The room filled with silence. Was Mike being genuine with Maryse right now? Were they still going to sleep around now that Ted was back? Was she going to get played just like he'd played the girls in the past? One shot out at her from nowhere: _Doesn't Ted deserve to know the truth?_

She quickly banished it from her head. It wasn't her place to say anything to Maryse's husband. Or was it?

Alex soon noticed the ever-changing expressions on her face. "Hey, are you okay?"

"Fine." Tiffany waved a dismissive hand. "This is all just a little... overwhelming."

"Tell me about it." He thought of John and Eve back in there. "Do you want to watch some television with me before you go back in there? It would give you a nice break."

"It definitely would. I'll take you up on that offer, Alex, thanks."

They shared a light smile before settling back onto the couch to watch whatever was showing on the screen right now. Inside, they were torn apart about the things they knew, and wondered how much longer they could keep their secrets to themselves.

* * *

It was safe to say that poker night was over for another evening, and though he'd predicted a win for himself, Mike was not the victor of the games they played. John Cena took that pleasure and relaxed back in his seat now with the perfect smile on his face while he taunted his friend.

Maryse turned to Layla, confused. "It always comes down to you and Mike. Where's your head at this evening?"

"I guess it's not where it should be." The woman in question shrugged. "I think I might get going now. I don't feel so hot and a bath and an early night sound like a great idea to me right now."

"I hope you're not catching whatever Alex has," said the concerned blonde as her friend stood to her feet. "I wonder if some sort of bug is going around. Eve, have you heard anything from the school about a virus?"

"No. Logan seems fine."

"Oh... well, I hope you feel better. We're all going out shopping tomorrow, remember? We've had it planned for a long time now. Are you going to be okay?"

"I'm sure I will. Shopping cures everything." With a friendly wave, she turned on her heel.

When she turned back at the door, satisfied that she wasn't the focus of their attention anymore, she allowed her eyes to rest on John for a moment. He looked pleased with himself and not at all like the strain of being around her was too much to handle. _At least that makes one of us_, she thought to herself before taking her leave back to her place.

Mike offered to clean up to get away from John's gloating, smirking as he collected everything together and headed towards the kitchen. Maryse considered following him but didn't do so in the end; instead she collected her things together and smiled to herself, deciding that going home was the right thing to do. Ted would be waiting for her anyway. It was so good to have him back.

Eve was aware that it was just her and John left—save for Alex and Tiffany in the living room and whatever they were talking about—and felt oddly self-conscious as she stood to her feet with him. "I suppose I should collect Tiffany and get back. Tonight was fun. Congratulations on your big win."

"Oh believe me, I'll be bragging about this for weeks," chuckled the guy as he followed her out into the landing. "Uh, Eve—" His tone had suddenly changed. She turned into his hopeful smile. "I was wondering if you wanted to go out with me for a bite to eat one night – for real this time. What do you think?"

A smile crossed her lips. "That sounds good." She was vaguely aware of the door opening and Alex and Tiffany coming out to join them. "I'll call you tomorrow and arrange something."

"Great."

"Ready to go?" Eve turned to Tiffany, avoiding the man beside her. "I'm getting tired all of a sudden."

"Yeah, me too. I can just tell the twins are not going to give me any rest tonight. Please tell me it gets easier."

The two housewives linked arms upon taking their leave, with the brunette of the two laughing before saying that no, it wouldn't.

Back in her house, Layla caught a glimpse of the pair leaving and focused her attention on Eve. The Latina definitely looked happy about something. Was it all down to John Cena? Was he making her feel like she had once upon a time before her mistake changed everything – before she ruined his life? At just the memory, she grimaced and turned her back, looking around her kitchen once more.

Eve was her close friend but if something was to happen between her and John she wouldn't know how to react. It was all she could do not to make a public announcement to say she was still terribly in love with her ex... that she wanted her old life before William Regal back.

On the other side of the street, Tiffany said goodbye to Eve and walked home alone. The chill of the night had her shivering and she was suddenly grateful that Drew was in for the evening and would have the heating on for her when she stepped inside. Her forgiving side was certainly showing itself a lot more these days – especially when it came to her husband.

But though she was sweet, the pregnant blonde was cautious of what she knew and glanced over to the DiBiase household before she shut the door behind her. Alex's words came back to her—as did the behaviour between Maryse and Mike throughout the night. They were _not_ over and done with.

Ted crossed the living room window and she studied him for a moment. He ruffled his daughter's hair, who playfully punched her Dad in the arm in return, causing a quick play-fight. A smile graced her features at just the sight of the family moment.

Should she tell Ted? Or should she discuss the situation with Maryse and decide from there onwards?

There had been enough to worry about for the evening, Tiffany knew, and chose to ignore her ever-growing troubles as she finally shut the door behind her. Drew greeted her with a mug of tea – her favourite kind and the drink she usually had before going to bed. She smiled. Taking things one step at a time was always a wise idea.

* * *

So there's the next chapter. Please review :)

_Coming Up: It's time for an insight into Alex, John and Mike's world._


	19. Boys Will Be Boys

**The Good Life**

_AN._ Thank you to **xsostarstruck, my time is now, ViperDiva, BigRedMachineUK, MizEveTedFan, xHalosandwings, xTwistedxImperfectionx, keepthefaithx **_&_ **sophia0401** for reviewing the last chapter.

Thanks very muchly! :)

* * *

_Chapter Nineteen – Boys Will Be Boys_

* * *

Alex Riley had changed his mind a lot over the years. Be it over profession, his relationship status or the place where he ought to live, he always had an ever-changing opinion on the subject – so much so that his friends were long past the point of pretending to be surprised when he announced a new venture for himself.

But recently his thoughts lingered in the same spot when it came to his job and love life.

He loved training to be a full-time doctor. He hadn't always wanted to be one – the idea came to him about three years ago – but so far this was the longest he'd stuck to a goal. Sure, the night shifts were beyond tiring and he returned home sometimes in the early morning feeling as ill and exhausted as the patients he had to attend to, but he also felt like he was doing his part in the world.

That was important to him.

Aside from his job title, the most noteworthy change in his life was how dedicated he was to one woman in his life right now – ever since the move to Avidian Lane. He was hardly The Miz when it came to Playboy standards, but beforehand, he was a casual dater and didn't focus so much on the romantic aspect of it all. He didn't see the potential of a relationship; just a good time in bed.

Then Eve Torres came barging into his life—_literally_—and took his breath away. With that figure fitting dress, her brown curls and the piss-off look she so gladly presented to him, how could he not be blown away? She was a walking hurricane and he was caught in her whirlwind instantly, with no intention of escaping.

Up until now he had only dreamed of nabbing a date with her; then he actually got one – as luck would have it – and he had the whole night to get to know her better. It was all he'd wanted to do since running into her at the store, then finding out they were neighbours and resting his eyes on her through the window to watch her in her own little world, doing her silly little dance.

Eve was something special. He knew that right off the bat, and yet he was amazed to find she didn't know of her effect at all. He was determined to prove her insecurities wrong.

Maybe if her scumbag of an ex-husband hadn't treated her like she wasn't worth a dime then she wouldn't have broken down on the dance-floor. She wouldn't have put her guard back up with him after telling a particularly heartfelt story of her past, and he wouldn't have had to watch her hurry up the steps of her porch at the end of the night, his heart aching, while he realised he might have blown a chance at a relationship with her by promising to take it slow.

Thinking of her tearful eyes now, the only time he'd ever seen a glimpse into her true character, Alex shook his head at the floor. Would he ever see that side to her again?

Or would someone else unravel the mystery that was Eve Torres before he got the chance to?

"Alex, Mrs. Collins in Room 502 wants to talk to you about her operation." He found himself confronted by a pretty blonde girl – a resident at the hospital by the name of Carly Peterson. They were often placed together on the same shifts, and for the most part, got along well. "She's feeling nervous and you are her favourite doctor."

"The woman has good taste." He joked, attempting to put thoughts of Eve to the back of his mind. It worked: he was now thinking about John Cena and once again revisiting the image where he beat his "friend" to a bloody pulp.

"Uh-huh. Sure." Carly walked with him to the elevator. "Just so you know, the last time I was in there she talked about setting you up with her grandson. She thinks you're gay."

He stepped inside once the doors opened. "But obviously you did your best to dispel the rumour right?"

"If that's what you want to believe, then sure." He was left with Carly's smirk as the doors closed and separated them.

The playful banter only kept him occupied for a few more seconds before his conversation with Layla this afternoon came to mind. She had sounded as bitter as he felt while telling him about the latest gossip on the rumour mill: John Cena was taking Eve out on a date. Despite the housewife's strong assurance that nothing would come to fruition, he wasn't so sure, and left their conversation with a hollow feeling in his stomach.

He and John were friends, but Alex really didn't know how much longer he could keep up the fake smiles and polite discussions for. They both knew an issue was growing between them—namely Eve Torres—and it was only a matter of time before words turned into punches.

Entering Mrs. Collins hospital room, he decided to push his personal life aside and give his utmost attention to remaining professional. He smiled respectfully at the elderly patient once he caught her eye and kept his thoughts to himself.

He was good at that: hiding his true feelings.

* * *

It had been a long night.

John Cena pulled into the driveway of his house and let out a yawn after parking in the perfect position. Thinking of the last two hours he was forced to spend fixing a leaky showerhead, he grew agitated, but told himself to think about the extra wad of cash he was given to stay on past his usual hours.

He stepped out of the vehicle, onto his tired feet. The urge to look over at a certain house was too powerful to ignore, so he angled his head for the briefest moment towards the Regal residence.

All the lights were off save for one: the bedroom. He imagined Layla in there alone. What would she be doing? Sleeping? Watching television? Having a long late-night phone conversation with one of the ladies on the street?

Or would she be lazing around in that revealing lingerie he so admired on her curvy frame?

He shook his head out of the memory of their passionate night together – much like he did most of his nights before he fell asleep – and walked up to the front door instead. As he rooted around for his key, he decided to think about the more important things in life.

Like his date with Eve next Friday night.

It was official: he and the Latina were branching out against the idea of friendship, rules and consequences be damned. The latter was certainly on his mind – would the so-called consequences be worth the risk in the end?

All John really knew was that he wanted his love life to be simple for a change and with Eve he was guaranteed that. He relied heavily on it, especially when Layla and Alex, respectively, crossed his thoughts.

On his first step into the house, he almost collided with Mike. The guy looked to be on his way out. "Going anywhere special?" He asked, curious.

"Nope." The Miz patted his shoulder in a friendly manner while he walked past him and out towards his car. "Oh," he added before he forgot," Alex is taking on an extra shift tomorrow morning. He'll be back around noon. See ya."

Making a note of the information, he gave a quick salute to Mike, and then shut the door behind him. So, it would just be him alone for the evening in an empty house? Now would usually be the time for a celebration—there was never anything wrong with having alone time to himself, no matter how great it was to live with two guys—but he was too tired to really care.

He climbed the stairs two at a time, eager to reach his bedroom. He would have a shower first thing tomorrow morning but all he could think about now was collapsing onto his bed and passing out at first chance.

John's room was the smallest out of all three bedrooms, but still quite spacious, and he revelled in this as he kicked off his shoes and unzipped his jeans. Drawing nearer to the bed, he took off his shirt and glanced over the messy sight. He hadn't had time to make it this morning. Not that it mattered now, as he almost took a running jump at it and landed in the soft middle. All that was left to do now was fall asleep.

But he couldn't. Not when his thoughts, as much as he hated them, rested with his ex-girlfriend. He tried hard to think of Eve—of her pretty smile and how comfortable she could make him feel when they were in each other's company—but Layla was ultimately the one to consume most of his time.

In their last encounter, he had kissed her with all the passion he had. He could still taste the cherry lip-gloss she had worn that day; delicious and enticing, but forbidden all the same. He remembered telling her that he needed to 'sort out his head' when it came to her, but little did she know that she was only pulling him in closer, like a magnetic pull. He couldn't resist.

Still, John knew things couldn't ever return to the way things used to be. She was married to a man who gave her everything she could ever want—raking his eyes over the expensive car in her driveway or the clothes that adorned her body, _that_ was always clear to see—and he had no place in her enriched life.

It was time to move on.

He heard a vibration against his bedside table and broke his stare from the ceiling, confused, to look over. There was nothing on top of it to cause the sensation. His eyes travelled downwards and he soon realised that where he kicked his jeans on the floor, his cell phone was still in it and pressed against the wood.

He leaned over and reached in the pocket to check it.

_Remember how you asked me to choose a restaurant for our date? I have an idea. Why don't you just come round to mine for dinner instead? Let me know :) E x_

John didn't think to answer Eve's text. Tomorrow he would reply and say it sounded great, but for now he was just wanted to lie back down, shut his eyes and fall into an easy sleep.

* * *

Long after the car engine died, Mike Mizanin sat in his truck and waited. He stared out into the night from his position in the driver's seat, not really seeing anything in the darkness, and told himself he would only stay for another ten minutes. He couldn't risk it.

He drummed his fingers against his jean-clad thigh while he waited. A thousand thoughts ran through his mind, but surged back to Maryse Ouellet eventually. It was without remorse that he thought about her naked body and the things he had done to it in the past couple of weeks; she certainly knew what she wanted when it came to sex and he was happy to oblige. His duties were far too easy to abide by.

He soon heard the unmistakable sound of heels clicking against the sidewalk and glanced to his right to get a look at the person about to walk by. _This better be her_. He thought agitatedly after checking his watch to see the time. _I've waited long enough._

Luckily for him, it was.

The door to the passenger's side was opened a short moment later, and in swept a smirking brunette, who was quick to shut the door and close them off from the rest of the world again. He took note of her smiling features and was unable to help himself from returning the gesture.

"What time do you call this?"

"Not late enough for you to question me." She answered expertly. Leaning over, she greeted him with a long, slow kiss, and then pulled back to see his satisfied reaction. "I don't think you're complaining now."

"No, I'm definitely not." He leaned back in his seat. Laughing moments later, he couldn't help but voice the one obvious thought on his mind. "What the fuck, Mickie James? Do you know what you do to me?"

The brunette ran a hand up his thigh slowly. "I think I do." A few teasing seconds later, she pulled away and took her eyes off of the familiar look on his face to look out of the window. "So, how are you getting on? I didn't hear from you last week."

"I phoned once but I guess you were out of town or something – did you get that tryout with TNA that you were talking about?"

"I did, but that's not important right now. Has the bitch fallen for you or what?" She met his eyes sharply.

"Relax. Maryse is practically gagging for it and I've got her right where I want her." He scoffed a moment later. "Ted's back though. Seems like nothing's changed."

Mickie stiffened upon hearing his name. The former Diva tried to get back on track quickly. "You're going to have to raise the stakes."

"Oh yeah? How am I going to do that?"

"I don't know. Fuck her like she's never been fucked or something. All I know is that by the end of all of this, I want to see Maryse Ouellet suffer. I want everyone to know who she really is. She won't get away with what she did to me."

"Baby, don't you think this is going a little too far – just for a chance at revenge? She's getting married in a month and it doesn't look like anything is going to change."

"Well, it has to." Mickie sat back and crossed her arms over her chest defiantly. She looked like a petulant child who wasn't getting what she wanted. Turning to Mike, she propositioned him. "Tell you what. If you do this for me – if you get them to break-up permanently – then when all of this is over, it can be just _you and me._ That's what you want right?"

He stared at her incredulously. After more than four years together, how could she even question it? "Yeah..."

"Right, okay then. She's obviously torn in-between you and Ted, and we both know she has a dark side to her. Just bring it out in her. Tell her you're falling in love with her... anything, really... and the rest will work itself out."

"If you think so."

The brunette woman relaxed. Inching towards him, Mickie cupped her hands around his cheeks and pulled him into her, pressing her lips to his once more. The kiss was full of passion and desire—everything a good kiss should be. Mike was drawn to her again and placed his hands over her wrists to get to pull her away. "Okay," he answered. "I'll do it for you."

"I love you." She spoke, sincere.

She pecked his lips one more time and then his eyes were forced to follow her figure as she slipped out of the car, slamming the door shut behind her, before walking off in the same direction she'd arrived in.

Mike leaned back in his seat and shut his eyes for a moment. What he would do for that woman was unbelievable and several times he questioned himself for his obeying ways, but then he thought about her and everything was alright again.

He quickly straightened out and revved up the car engine. Once settled, he pulled out into the road and drove back towards the main streets. He would go home and—if he was questioned tomorrow—he would tell Alex that he was with Maryse, or he would tell John that he was out on work business.

The Miz was a fantastic liar, after all.

* * *

So there's the next chapter. Please review :)

_Coming Up: A big secret is revealed on Avidian Lane._


	20. Word on the Street

**The Good Life**

_AN._ Thank you to **MizEveTedFan, xSMILEwithLOVE, BigRedMachineUK, xHalosandwings, OhSoQuizzical, ViperDiva, sophia0401, xjessbynature, my time is now, xsostarstruck, Cena-Wilson-Crazy **_&_ **xTwistedxImperfectionx** for reviewing the last chapter.

Thanks very muchly! :)

* * *

_Chapter Twenty – Word on the Street_

* * *

Avidian Lane was known for putting on events from time to time for its house owners, be it for charity or simply a nice planned day out, and when it did, the residents were brought together under the same roof to contribute towards it.

Standing in the living room of her immaculate house surrounded by neighbours, Layla had the perfect smile splashed across her face. Many of her friends had commented on its well-kept state, and she had given warm thanks in return with that same perfect smile, ignoring the fact the praise was better awarded to the housekeeper who looked after the place.

"I hear William is returning home today!" Mrs. Jenkins was an elderly woman of seventy-six—although Layla privately though she looked twenty years older—and thought that just because she was deaf, everyone else must be too. She shouted out, "You must miss him dreadfully!"

The housewife was grateful to have been trained in polite etiquette. "Oh yes, I miss him a lot. He's been away for far too long." She noticed the familiar expression on Mrs. Jenkin's face, one that told her the number five resident couldn't hear a thing but was pretending to, and immediately thought along the lines of: _screw polite etiquette. _"Can you even hear me?" A laugh was given, but not an answer. "You're a crazy woman and you smell of cabbage. Really badly actually; you should probably see a doctor about that."

"Layla!"

Startled, she soon realised the person calling her name in shock wasn't Mrs. Jenkins but a newly-arrived Tiffany, who approached her now with some kind of dish covered in silver tin foil. Despite the scolding, the British woman saw a hint of a smile on her friend's lips, and excused herself (very loudly) to join her.

"Thank God you saved me. If one more person asks about William..." She refrained from finishing the sentence, but the implication was understood. "Why do some people think our lives revolve around our husbands?"

The blonde laughed as they walked through to the kitchen. "I brought the pecan pie that everyone loves." She said with a smile and shoved it in the small space she could find. There were plates of various, bright food everywhere sat on the counter. "How is the get together going?"

"Not without stress. I don't know why I offered the house two months ago for it." Layla looked at Tiffany's sizeable bump. "But enough about me, how are you doing? You're getting big now."

"Drew mentioned that to me last night – in the nicest way possible of course." He had mentioned it, but in passing, and Tiffany instantly wondered—for the third time that day—if it was time for the distance between them to be closed for good.

"Is everything alright?"

With a bump, the blonde landed back on earth and into reality. "Sure. I was just wondering where Eve and Maryse are."

"Eve's chatting it up with everyone inside—shocker right? I don't know how she can be so nice all the time—and Maryse is coming soon with Ted. They've been out picking new jewellery for her. That's what I call the good life."

"I'm glad they're back on track." Even saying it, she recalled the memory of seeing Maryse and Mike together, sharing a long, sweet kiss. "Anyway, you'll get your gold soon. Isn't William back today?"

A groan spilled through Layla's lips. "Why does everyone keep reminding me of that?"

"Honestly Lay, I wonder about you sometimes. Come on, let's make our way round the guests and make ourselves presentable."

"Feel free to join Eve. I've got to set up the microphones by the pool so people like Mrs. Jenkins can hear the announcements." She rolled her eyes. "And knowing me, I'll leave them on the whole time and drain the batteries—I'm no good at technical things. Here's hoping – if I do – that we end up getting some juicy gossip!"

* * *

When Eve was pulled away from her conversation with Luke Jenkins, twenty year-old grandson of Mrs. Jenkins, she didn't mind the abrupt interruption. To have her breasts stared at for a record-breaking ten minutes while she talked – instead of him focusing on the rapidly growing sour expression on her face – it was only a matter of time before she slapped some sense into the horny young adult.

But wonderful as she felt to be relieved of her good-neighbour duties, the brunette felt a lurch in her stomach from the instant she realised it was Alex Riley doing the favour for her, and that it was him dragging her over to a quiet corner of the house to give her a break.

"Thanks for the save," said Eve, attempting a friendly smile when she noticed him press his hands to his waist in a strict manner. "Luke's a sweet guy, but he really needs to get out more and find a girl his own age."

"Maybe he should go out on a date with someone and then move on to her friend shortly afterwards. What would _you_ make of that?"

"Alex..."

"Like hell I want to talk to you about Luke Jenkins!" He raged on. "You didn't answer me the other day. You've been avoiding me ever since then."

The Latina didn't know what to say to that, and resorted to glancing around at the other people surrounding them, looking for a way out of the impending conversation. She _had_ been avoiding him; arriving home at the same time he was heading out to the hospital for his shift, she always avoided eye contact and him in general—despite the fact he was only a few yards away—and rushed up the porch steps, strongly aware of his gaze in the meanwhile.

Eve wasn't particularly sure how to handle the subject of Alex Riley – especially when the thought of him was always followed up by thoughts of John Cena. John Cena, and the first date they were going to be having soon.

"I'm just going to say this once," said the man, grabbing her attention again. "Because I'm sick of feeling like a broken record with you."

"Say what?" She queried, unsettled by his expression.

"I can't keep playing this game with you. We went out on a date, we had a great time, and now it's like it never happened. Yes, you told me about your past when you didn't mean to—but did I _ever_ give you the idea that it wasn't okay for you to do that?" He regarded her now. When she tried to give an answer, he shook his head. "I'm not finished. I said I would wait until you were ready to date properly, and until then I was happy to be friends with you. But I can't even do that anymore."

"We can't be friends?"

Alex took in her hurt expression and laughed bitterly. "Oh God, Eve, you don't even know what you're doing. You can deny it all you want, but there's a spark between us; we both know it. And you choosing to date Cena, a _friend_ of mine, just so you can run away from your real feelings? It's pathetic. I'm not waiting around for you anymore. Either you admit that we've got something going here or I'm moving on – for good."

The housewife didn't know what surprised her more: the fact he was giving her an ultimatum, or the fact that the ultimatum brought on a new array of emotions. Sadness, disappointment... possible heartbreak.

"Are you going to go through with your date with John?" Alex asked calmly, but she could tell he was regarding her with avid determination.

"Yes."

She hardly believed the word to spill through her mouth, and as she watched Alex tense up in his expression and then walk swiftly away from her, wanting to do anything other than stand there and just watch him leave, she almost teared up.

Eve Torres had just made up her mind, and Alex Riley, having been patient with her ever since they first met, was giving up on her once and for all.

She felt numb as she was greeted by another inhabitant of the street, but somehow the perfect, friendly smile never left her face as the day went on.

* * *

Maryse Ouellet was in a blissful state of mind. She had been – in fact – ever since the significant return of her husband, but the mood was heightened now as they walked towards Layla's house, already buzzing with chatter from their neighbours, hand-in-hand. She knew they looked like the perfect couple, but she also knew in time they would feel like the perfect couple again.

After a few sessions of late-night lovemaking last night, Ted had suggested that next week they make an appointment for a therapy session with a couples counsellor. The housewife had been shocked and disgusted by the thought at first, but the wrestler explained they still had issues to sort through, that it was only going to help their marriage in the long run, and she finally relented. Well, she did after he pulled her down on top of him on the bed and had his wicked way with her again.

Remembering this now, she smirked to herself and rested her head on his shoulder as they walked through the open door. Ted kissed her chastely on her soft blonde head, loosening his grip on his wife's hand to snake his own around her waist and tickle her playfully.

"Don't the perfect couple look... well, perfect?" Layla beamed at them as she approached. "It's good to see you two together again, it really is... and now I'm going to drag Maryse away from you, Ted, sorry about that. There's a cocktail drink out the back that she just _has_ to try."

"Love you," murmured the French-Canadian woman, pressed her lips to her husband's cheek in a farewell kiss, and then followed her friend outside.

Layla smirked at her. "At it like rabbits again are you?"

A good girl would have blushed at the comment, but the bad girl in Maryse Ouellet full-on grinned, unashamed. "I've rarely seen the outside of our bedroom. Poor Emily almost went without dinner last night."

"Forgetting about your own daughter? Amazing." A short few seconds later, she furrowed her brows together. "I didn't mean it like that..."

Maryse laughed. A proper laugh – one she hadn't let out in a long time. "I know you didn't. So, what's this drink you want me to try?"

Layla was only able to point her in the direction of the drinks table and at a group of light blue wonders in the middle of the colourful display—sitting in a martini glass, a slice of pineapple wedged onto the side—before she was pulled away to help Mrs. Jenkins, apparently blind too, to find the bathroom.

Maryse picked up a blue drink and sipped at the frosted rim of the glass, intrigued to find out what was so special about it. After a few more sips-turned-into-gulps, she was reaching for her second one—the fruity delights were delicious.

"We need to talk."

Her hand stopped in its trail, seconds short of picking up a second drink, as her eyes met Mike Mizanin's serious ones. It hadn't been hard to forget about her illicit affair with the man when Ted DiBiase returned with that wonderful smile and confidence, but now that she was staring at him for the first time since then, it all came flooding back. Their wild nights, the comfort he provided her with... the forbidden _sex_...

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"Really? Because I do." He folded his arms across his chest. "And I'm not going anywhere until we talk properly."

Casting her gaze to inside the house, she made sure nobody was looking their way before dragging him over to poolside, barely past the microphones on their stands, and confronting him. "There is nothing to talk about." A faint rippling sound followed her words, but she paid little attention to it. "Please don't make this hard for me."

"Make this hard for _you?_ What about me?" He took a step closer, and she in return took a step back. They were nearer to the microphones now. Oblivious to the fact they were on—Layla sticking to her promise of not being good at setting them up—he continued. "You were happy with me until Ted came running back to you. Are you that much of a pushover?"

Incensed, she widened her eyes at him. "Excuse me? What are you trying to say?"

Maryse heard a faint echo of her voice, but thought nothing of it; she was too caught up in the moment with Mike to particularly care about anything else.

"I'm trying to say—" said Mike, undeterred. "—I need you. You and I had something good going, and you _know_ you had a great time with me. Ted said the right things to you and you went with it because you're a romantic at heart, but you know, deep down, that he's not the one you want to be with. _You need me."_

For a brief moment, the blonde wondered if this was true. She could certainly see herself believing his desperate words a week ago, when Ted had all but abandoned her and she felt like she was getting trampled over. But now? Things had changed; the state of her relationship had changed—or was about to—and suddenly Mike seemed inconvenient, a brief lapse in her judgement.

"How long is it going to be before you need me again?"

She realised his voice was getting louder. Pressing a tight hand against his wrist, she felt compelled to tell him, "What we had was nothing. Do you hear me, Mike? I wouldn't even call it an affair. I am perfectly happy with Ted again and we... we _just had sex_. Yes, maybe I thought at one time that I had proper feelings for you... that maybe I was falling in love with you... but now I see that we could never be together. It was just sex. A stupid mistake."

Caught up in her speech, indignant that he should understand her point of view, Maryse Ouellet wasn't aware that she was also projecting it to the whole neighbourhood too. Slowly, her gaze turned away from Mike, whose expression had changed too, and with a growing sense of dread in the pit of her stomach, she rested her eyes on the microphone.

The switch was flicked firmly up to the 'on' button.

Finally, Mike and Maryse looked out to the small crowd staring back at them. There was Mrs. Jenkins and her smirking grandson, always up for a good bit of drama, and there was Mr. Carter from next door... and there was Ted, pulled away from his conversation with John Cena...

"Oh God," uttered Layla from the door step, standing in the middle of an equally stunned Tiffany and Eve. "I didn't _actually _think we would be getting juicy gossip."

The stunned silence went on for a little longer. Maryse and Mike looked caught-out, the former of the two staring straight at her husband, who ran a hand over his suddenly cross face and then disappeared. The sound of heels followed him, and Maryse – for the first time in her life – found herself running after the man she loved in desperation.

A British accent called out in the next moment, distracting the attention away from Mike, and William Regal – clearly unaware of what had just happened – grinned as he entered his house. His back was turned to everyone as he concentrated on dragging his luggage in. "Honey, are you ready to make a baby? I know I sure am!"

Then he turned and almost jumped in fright at all the faces staring back at him. Layla merely raised a hand to her face to cover her eyes; this day, she just knew, was going to be completely unforgettable.

* * *

So there's the next chapter. Please review :)

_Coming Up: Maryse and Eve have a heart to heart._


	21. Lost and Insecure

**The Good Life**

_AN._ Thank you to **ViperDiva, MizEveTedFan, BigRedMachineUK, , xHalosandwings, my time is now, OhSoQuizzical, sophia0401, xTwistedxImperfectionx, xsostarstruck, xSimplyCristi **_& _**xSMILEwithLOVE** for reviewing the last chapter.

Thanks very muchly! :)

* * *

_Chapter Twenty-One – Lost and Insecure_

* * *

Emily DiBiase slammed her locker door in frustration and turned on the spot, willing—no, challenging—another classmate to shoot her a knowing look. As expected, the students all whipped around when she met their eyes and she was left – once again – with the hollow feeling of knowing everyone in school knew about her family's dirty little secret.

It had been hard enough to come home from a fun trip at the mall with cheerleader friends and notice something amiss in the quiet DiBiase household – but _this?_ It killed her to know that her Dad moving out and taking up residence in a shoddy motel in a hasty move was public knowledge for everyone to discuss at will.

The thought of her poor father hit her hard once again—the way in which he kissed her forehead before he left, lingering momentarily as though he really didn't want to leave her, but knew he had to.

Just as she felt herself tear up again, the young blonde told herself to keep her head held up high – a tip her mother had given her; "In terms of a crisis, never stop being fabulous" – and with this in mind, she powered through the corridors, onwards in the direction of the school gym.

In that very moment, she knew she needed to hear Tyler's voice. She needed to hear him tell her that it was all going to be okay, that she wasn't falling apart with no chance of retrieving the pieces of her broken heart...

"Shit. Your girl's gotta be going through a tough time right now."

That was him now. Well it wasn't Tyler, but it was one of his idiotic friends she could hear. Instantly, Emily ached to be in her boyfriend's arms, comforted by his soothing words. She was certain he would be the only one in this wretched school to settle her into a calm state.

"Yeah, I bet she is." Ah, that was his tone now. She was feeling better already. Just a few more steps, a chance to slip in through the doors they were standing behind and she could see his face. "But you know what? I'm not surprised. I've been to her place before and seen her Mom—_obviously_ when we were done in the bedroom, if you know what I mean—and let me tell you something. Maryse DiBiase looks like a whore."

The teenager stopped in her tracks, stared at the door and felt something reminiscent to shock growing in her system. Their shadows bounced as the group surrounding him laughed but her eyes remained on his outline, and his only. Why was he saying that to them? Why was he lying – about the sex _and_ her mother?

"Ted's away all the time for his wrestling shows; I don't blame her for wanting someone else's dick. I wouldn't blame her if she jumped on _me_ the next time I'm around. I would let her, too. She was practically gagging for it last time I saw her..."

Emily was fairly sure she heard the words 'minx' and 'stripper' thrown around after that—from Tyler or his friends, she wasn't entirely sure—but she refused to swallow them; instead, she ran through the throngs of students in her way, ignoring their looks or matching them with a surly expression of her own, and headed in whatever way she could.

Feeling the urgent need to slow down and get her breath back, she reached the library. This would be a safe place to hide out until the bell rang again to signal the end of her lunch break. The place was usually a safe haven away from all the drama that filled the school corridors, and she ventured inside slowly, keeping to herself and hoping for the best. The books outnumbered the students, to her relief.

Maybe she could read a book... or find a nice table to settle down behind... or maybe log onto the school computers and finish off the rest of her coursework... or—

"Emily?"

Shaking, she turned into Logan's curious gaze. This was a turnaround: she, the most popular girl in her year, was a blotchy, red mess and he, the nerdy kid, looked perfectly at home in his surroundings. She took in his familiar spiky brown hair and then that concerned look of his, and suddenly she had no choice but to surrender to her emotions.

Uncaring of those around her, Emily burst into tears and dropped her bag to delve into his arms. Though surprised, Logan wrapped his arms around her, putting the book in his hand down onto a nearby table to rub her back soothingly. He had a hunch that this was about her parents and the ordeal they were going through right now; he couldn't blame her for acting out like this.

"It's alright, Emz." He whispered quietly into her ear, using the familiar nickname he'd given her when they were younger. "I'm here. It's okay."

The name comforted her more than he would ever know. Emily closed her eyes against his chest, staining his shirt with her mascara-streaked tears. "Thank you," she whispered back, inaudibly.

* * *

Though Eve hadn't known what to expect when she knocked on the front door of the DiBiase household, it definitely _hadn't_ been this. It had taken her a while to adjust to the sight of Maryse who answered ten seconds after she'd called round, as if expecting her, with her pearly whites on show.

The blonde ushered her inside shortly afterwards, making a sweeping gesture into the tidiness of her home. With her make-up perfectly applied, her hair perfectly curled and only the best designer trends gracing her slender figure, she looked like the head bitch in charge everyone knew and loved.

But perturbed as she was, the brunette had taken comfort in the fact that after five minutes of conversation in the conservatory, it was evident her friend was not in bright spirits. On closer inspection, she even saw the sensitive pink areas around her eyes which concealer had failed to cover up, and the way that glamorous smile would drop in the middle of a sentence.

Maryse Ouellet could not keep up with her usual character and it showed.

"Would you stop looking at me like that?" Maryse almost snapped as she reached for her teacup. After taking a modest sip, she rolled her eyes at her friend's expression. "I mean it. I'm perfectly fine."

"Except you're not. I know it, you know it and while I think it's adorable you think you can hide it from me, save yourself the trouble and just admit to it." Eve fixed her with a pointed look.

She knew she shouldn't have expected any less from the housewife. Maryse was called the head bitch because she could _act_ like one; no-one ever doubted a woman with wonderful power and a rich smirk. So it was no surprise that as the social butterfly in Avidian Lane, she should like to keep up appearances.

Now however, it was just sad. Sad and pathetic. Maryse sensed this and dropped back into her seat. "I can't hide anything from you." A hint of a smile played on her lips, but disappeared just as quickly as it had appeared. "It's been hell, Eve. Ted was back and everything was perfect again and then... well, you know the rest. He's left me. He'd rather be in a disgusting, flea-filled pit than at home. Shows how he feels."

"I don't blame him."

The French-Canadian beauty picked up on her comment with a sharp look. "Excuse me?"

"An affair, Maryse – really?" Eve trailed on and ignored her defensive attitude. "Were things really _that_ bad between you and Ted? I knew you and Mike had grown close but this is a surprise to me. How did you get to this point?"

The question seemed to stump her. "I relied on a friendship for more than it should have been. He was there... Ted wasn't. We talked and I felt like he really understood me. Do you know how long it's been since Ted has been able to read my thoughts – to know what I'm thinking in an instant? He didn't see me as I was..."

"So you decided that sleeping with The Miz was an acceptable thing to do? Wow."

"We all do things that don't make sense from time to time. Or do I need to remind you that you have a date with John Cena coming up when practically everyone in town knows you're in love with Alex Riley, his roommate? We all make mistakes, Eve. Don't you dare try and act high and mighty."

"Fine, we're both as bad as each other. Is that what you want to hear? Fine, whatever. But Maryse—" At this point, the brunette let out a sigh. The woman sitting opposite her was her very best friend on the street and there was so much she wanted to say to her, but she didn't know how to word it. The situation was still so mind-boggling to contend with. "I really didn't think I'd be having this conversation with you right now."

"I didn't think I would end up cheating on my husband – not least of all with a guy who made me feel good for an hour or so." Unlike her, she buried her head into her hands. Her voice was muffled when she spoke next.

"I even thought I was falling for Mike, you know?" She looked back up at her friend. "He made me feel like Ted did once, when we were a happy, young couple and everything was just perfect. We had each other and Emily... and that was all I needed. Mike brought it all rushing back to me. I craved it so badly that I fooled myself into believing that an affair was ideal."

"And then Ted came back..."

"And then Ted came back," echoed Maryse, shaking her head. A tear dripped down the left side of her face and she hurriedly wiped it away with the back of her hand. "He realised the error of his ways and he had this wonderful speech. My old life was coming back and suddenly I felt like I was worth something again—"

"Hang on. When did you ever feel like you were worthless? Don't ever think that."

When the woman grasped her hand, she merely squeezed it softly, grateful for the touch but not in the mood to go into that matter just yet. "I fell right back in love with him all over again. But Mike was still an issue and he wouldn't go away. I _know_ I was stupid to do what I did. I _know_ that. But..."

Barely a whimper escaped her lips before the sobs took over; loud and long, only cut off when another one came along. Eve moved from her seat and perched on the arm to take her friend into a warm embrace. It hurt her to see such a strong woman in such a bad situation. "I wish you would have talked to me. I had no idea you were going through this."

"I wouldn't have told you. I had it in my head that you and the girls would all be biased towards Ted and not have a clue what I was talking about—besides, I'm supposed to be the headstrong one here. It wouldn't be fitting."

"Would you just listen to yourself? You act like none of us have our little secrets too. We all know Layla's not happy in her marriage, something has always been dodgy about that relationship, and Tiffany and Drew haven't been seen together since they returned from their honeymoon. As for me... well, you're right about one thing; I am in love with Alex." Admitting it out loud was strange, but she didn't dwell on her words for long. "I guess we all have our comforts – the main one being that when we put up appearances for other people, at least _they_ can believe we have the perfect life."

"You're a smart woman, you know that?" Maryse sniffed. Seconds later, she gave a giggle—it was almost convincing. "Who would have known that with all the booty-popping you did back in the day with R-Truth? I always used to call you the wannabe black girl, remember?"

"I could never forget – and you were the stuck-up Barbie girl with your 'Maryse hand'. That's what it was called. I could be in the middle of saying something and then your hand would just go up and that was the end of that. Frustrated everyone. Not least of all Ted. Wasn't he on the receiving end quite a lot?"

He had been. Remembering it now – and then remembering the way he'd stormed out yesterday with his things in tow – the blonde sobered quickly. "Oh God, what am I going to do?"

"How did you leave things?" Eve resumed her seat opposite her and drank her tea, intrigued.

"When we got back to the house after my outburst at Layla's party, I tried to talk to him – tried and failed. We ended up arguing for a good two hours and then he stormed into the bedroom. I thought he just needed some time to settle down, but when I came in to have another go I caught him packing his things. I told him he couldn't leave but he didn't listen..."

"And he left anyway. Maybe you should go and see him?"

"I've called him and left him a message. Well, about ten actually. I've never worked so hard to keep a guy before." Maryse gave a sad smile. "I told him that I booked our first therapy session—we were discussing going to couples counselling before—and I said I would love it if he came along. Now more than ever, we have issues to work through. I told him we could make it work."

"Do you believe that?"

A small silence grew, but not one of doubt. Merely contemplative. "I love him. I'm in love with him. I don't know how he feels about me, but I don't want to give up on us. I don't want to think of a world without him and Emily in it. I want us to be a family again."

"That's good to know. Do you want me to try and talk to him? He might listen to me."

"Please don't trouble yourself. I think this is something I have to sort out on my own."

"Okay, that's fair enough." The brunette finished her tea and set it down on the coffee table separating them. Leaning back, she glanced out of the clear glass window, out to the sunny weather and the gorgeous day it posed. Funny how everything could look bright and promising when it was the furthest thing from the truth for some people. "I know you can work past this."

"I hope you're right. Oh, and Eve?" When she turned, the housewife was smiling at her. A true smile; one that reminded her of the first time they became friends and she realised that the 'stuck-up Barbie doll' wasn't half bad when you got to know her. "I hope you realise what an idiot you're being. John's great to look at but if he's not who you really want..."

"Look who is back to being the bossy bitch."

"Hey, you always have to be fabulous. That's what I say. You helped me and now I should help you—unless you want to wind up like me and be outed at a public event for your secret."

"There were quite a few people there huh?"

There was a moment of silence between them as they stared at each other, remembering that very cringe-worthy time, and then they laughed together at the absurdity of all that had happened recently.

When Maryse settled, she reminded herself that all was not lost. In her own way, Eve had told her this and she believed it with all her heart. She only hoped Ted DiBiase would see it her way too.

* * *

So there's the next chapter. Please review :)

_Coming Up: Tiffany packs for her trip to see Evan and decides on whom to give the extra ticket to._


	22. Escaping Avidian Lane

**The Good Life**

_AN._ Thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. Sorry for the long wait in updating this fic – I've been a bit preoccupied with all my other ones! Anyway, enjoy this chapter...

* * *

_Chapter Twenty-Two – Escaping Avidian Lane_

* * *

Another long day began on Avidian Lane.

At around six-fifteen in the early morning, Tiffany stirred in her king-size bed, comforted by the warm sheets she was tucked under and the pillow one side of her face was moulded into. An arm was draped loosely over the curve of her waist. It took her a moment – somewhere between stirring gently and opening her tired eyes – to realise that it belonged to her husband, and that he was pressed up behind her, one hand resting languidly on her stomach.

All was as it should be for a new family. A husband and wife were in the perfect pose of intimacy and protecting their unborn children.

Still, she set about to untangle herself from him and moved his hand away with as much ease as she could manage, before slipping out of bed and heading for the bathroom. Once the door was firmly shut behind her, Tiffany peed—secretly cursing the twins for getting her up four times in the night to do the exact same thing—and washed her hands.

Then she stared at herself in the mirror and tried to work out what was different with her. Besides the obvious, the smile that wouldn't stop appearing on her lips was a welcome change to the norm.

Evan came to mind as she padded barefoot into the kitchen and waited for the kettle to boil. She stared out of the window – a new favourite habit of hers – and thought about the trip awaiting her. Her flight to Las Vegas left at five that early evening. Already, she felt a flurry of emotions: excitement, intrigue, anxiety.

What would it be like to be back in the company of all her wrestler friends again? Would things be different or would she slip back into the comfortable routine as if nothing had changed? She didn't know, but she was happy to find out.

After pouring herself a mug of sweet tea, she left it on the table to cool down and went outside to collect the morning newspaper. As usual the paperboy had left it in an awkward position – thrown at such an angle that it was just underneath the car, tucked in enough to bend down for but impossible to get in her condition.

"Tiff, you know you look strange doing those squats don't you?"

She caught her breath and turned, straight into Maryse's knowing smirk. A slight smile lit her own features as she stood upright again. "Funnily enough, I'm not attempting to exercise, even if I do want to keep the extra pounds off from this pregnancy. The newspaper is wedged under there and I can't get it out."

The pregnant woman watched as her friend dipped down and grabbed the paper in a seemingly effortless move, before standing back up again and handing it over. When Maryse wiped her perfect curls out of her eyes, she had a sudden desire to slap her – not so long ago, she could have done the same thing without two babies weighing her down.

The French-Canadian housewife took her stare as something else. "Let me guess. You're mad about me carrying out an affair with Mike right? You feel bad for Ted because of all I've put him through recently? I know it must be a shock."

"Actually... I knew about the affair before it was announced for everyone to hear."

Just like that, they were on shaky ground with one another. Tiffany had been battling with herself before Layla's party and wondering what to say to Maryse – to maybe talk to her husband instead and reveal the truth – but then both she and Mike had said too much into a microphone and that inner struggle was taken from her easily.

She hadn't spoken to her friend since that time and even now she resorted back to that sunny day where Maryse had run after her husband in high heels with a scared expression on her face. She thought it would have been enough to allow a little sympathy for her, but staring at her now, she was surprised she didn't feel anything of the sort towards her.

"You knew? But how?"

"I found out on the day of the school dance – you know, when Eve roped everyone into helping out? I was going out to the back and overheard the two of you talking. Then I saw the kiss and well, it wasn't hard to figure out what was going on after that."

They both took a moment to remember that day.

Uneasily, Maryse forced herself to move on. "I hope you understand the affair didn't last long. I wasn't even in love with him... I just needed someone to help me feel better while Ted was away. I was lonely I guess."

"That doesn't make it alright."

"No, of course it doesn't." To Maryse's surprise, Tiffany was turning on her heel and preparing to step back inside her house. Was she mad at her? "Tiff, what's going on?"

"I'm just disappointed." They looked at each other again. "It would be a horrible thing if you fell in love with Mike when you're still with Ted, but at least it would be a legitimate reason. You got with him because you were horny and looking for excitement... it's something the _old_ Maryse would do."

"I'm not perfect. It was a mistake I stupidly made and now everyone knows all about it. What else can I say?" There was a moment's pause before she spoke again. "I thought of all people, you might be on my side. You're practically the sweetest person I know – forgiving, friendly. You have a good heart."

The compliments were ignored. "But it's not about taking sides. It's about crossing the line between wrong and right. No matter how you were feeling, did you have to take it that far? I realise now that you and Ted had problems but still..."

She didn't know where this was all coming from. As she reached her porch, the former Diva tried to work it out. Maryse Ouellet was a fantastic friend and had been there for her many times while she made the adjustment from wrestler to stay-at-home housewife, so why was she treating her like this in her time of need? Something inside of her clicked but she was too slow in that moment to work it out.

Desperate for one last attempt to make things right, Maryse reached out for her arm and spoke again. "I don't expect you would know, but haven't you ever felt like you needed more than what you were getting? Ted and I were having problems and that shouldn't have permitted me to cheat, but when someone makes you feel like you once felt – like the person you want to be again – then it's easy to move on from what you know."

"Is that what you're doing? Moving on?"

"No, I love Ted. Just... just imagine this." The housewife sat them both down. "Imagine you and Drew were having issues to the point where you couldn't stand to look at him anymore. Imagine he'd done something wrong, something unforgiveable, and you felt justified to hate him for it."

Tiffany visibly stiffened.

"Then someone came along who lifted your spirits and made you feel okay again. They brought life back into you and made you feel fantastic again." Evan Bourne crossed her mind, but Maryse was already carrying on, oblivious to her thoughts. "You would lean on them for support. Are you telling me you wouldn't be tempted to do what I did?"

A long silence played out as she contemplated her answer. She angled her head towards the house, as though she could Drew back in their bedroom sleeping contently, and then faced forwards again. No matter what happened, she could never see herself cheating on him.

Eventually, she came to rest her head on Maryse's shoulder. "I'm sorry." She spoke softly a moment later. "I didn't mean to go off on you. There have just been so many changes recently that it's hard to come to grips with all of them."

"It's okay, I understand. I didn't expect to be forgiven instantly. If it's any consolation, Emily's finding it tough to talk to me at the moment."

"Do you think you and Ted will work things out?"

The French-Canadian woman let out a deep sigh and looked away from her friend to glance over at her house. On the outside it looked immaculate, much like the rest of the houses lined across Avidian Lane side by side. To think that just a few days ago – inside that very house – a war had raged between her and the husband she couldn't bear to lose.

"For Emily's sake, for _my_ sake, I hope so. We have a couples therapy session to attend soon. I can only hope he shows up to it. Now more than ever, we need help."

"I hope you work it out. The DiBiase household won't be the same without Ted."

"You're right – it would be nothing. But—" A fresh smile grasped her features. "Enough about depressing me. Don't you have a flight to catch later on?"

Tiffany felt herself perk up at the prospect of leaving the lane. Even if it was only for a few days, a new atmosphere and change of scenery would do her well. "Yes, I do. I'm all packed, and Drew's going to give me a lift to the airport. Then he's got his flight later in the evening with the Smackdown crew."

"Well I reckon you're lucky. What I would do to get out of this place for awhile..."

A comfortable silence settled over them. The pregnant housewife, feeling much better after her strange outburst earlier, eventually stood up from her position and gave a quiet sigh. "I better get back inside. My tea's going to get cold."

"Of course. I need to get breakfast ready for Emily anyway."

"You mean you have to call in the maid to get it ready?"

"Isn't that the same thing?"

At Maryse's indifferent look, she laughed. "I will miss you while I'm gone."

"You too. Have a great time."

After a sweet hug goodbye, Tiffany trailed back into her quiet house. She reached for her tea and was pleasantly surprised to find it was still warm enough to drink. After two sips, she turned around to head into the study – she was sure she left her cell phone in there last night – but was distracted by the appearance of Drew at the door.

"Good morning." She greeted him dutifully.

Clad in boxer shorts and nothing much else, the Scottish wrestler offered a soft smile in her direction. "Good morning, beautiful." He dared to say. Obviously, he thought things were getting back to normal between them – after all, they were sleeping in the same bed again and closer together than usual. She didn't blame him for feeling this way. "How did you sleep?"

She nodded. "Okay. You?"

"Fine." He traipsed up to her. "Are you ready for the flight?"

"I made sure I was ready before I went to bed yesterday. I'll grab a bottle of water at the airport – expensive prices be damned." A smile crept onto her lips. This easiness between her and Drew, it was getting better. "So, a few days apart again... slipping back into routine here..."

Drew's smile faltered. He grabbed her free hand, grasped it in his bigger one with a tenderness she hadn't felt from him in quite some time. "We're going to be okay, aren't we?"

Maybe she should have said yes to make them both feel better in themselves. Maybe she should have stared into those familiar eyes, sighed happily, placed a hand against his cheek and kissed him softly.

But something about the question made her itch and she resolved to relieve the sensation as quickly as possible. Breaking away from him, she headed towards the bedroom. "I don't know." She answered, noncommittally.

After perching on the edge of her bed, Tiffany reached for the two Raw tickets on her bedside table. Wasn't it time to decide on who she would be taking along with her to the show, not on her husband and the issues they had?

* * *

Layla El was going crazy. It was apparent in the way she yelled at Elissa for arriving a minute and a half late to the house, and it was apparent in the way she stalked upstairs, past the bedroom and into the bathroom for a long, soothing bath.

But delicious fruity smells and never-ending bubbles simply weren't doing the trick for her and fifteen minutes she clambered out, wrapped a towel around her slender figure and trudged out to change again.

What was getting her down?

"Honey, when do you think we'll start trying for a baby again?"

The British woman held herself back from shooting a look at her husband as she trailed into the kitchen. She tugged at her shirt with frustration instead. William hadn't been back for long, but already he seemed more annoying than before. Was that even possible? She didn't even get a good morning from him anymore; just the same old, ridiculous question.

"You know I'm on my period this week." Even though she'd made this fact up about a week ago in preparation for his return, Layla still thought of it as clever. Anything to stop herself from committing to sex with her husband. "You know, I've read all about getting pregnant—" _Lie._ "And they say it can take months for it to happen. Are you sure you want to commit to that?"

"Of course, darling. Don't you?"

Layla smacked her lips together. When he gave her a look, confused, she muttered, "Of course I do. I'm just warning you."

William turned the page of his newspaper, suddenly interested in that again instead of her. "Well then, we'll start trying again next week. We'll have to. The sooner you get pregnant, the better."

She thought of the birth pills wedged at the back of her underwear drawer and breathed out a subtle sigh of relief. Instantly, she relaxed—it had been a great idea to speed over to her local doctor's office and ask for her cycle to continue. She had explained that William was getting a little senile and had cancelled the prescription out of confusion, and that had been – thankfully – enough to grant her her wish.

"I'm just saying it might take time."

"It can take all the time in the world." William turned on her with a soft smile. "As long as we get our children in the end, hey?"

"Yeah... I guess so..."

As soon as he turned away again, she rolled her eyes. _This _was what she'd given up the WWE for? A nagging husband who'd suddenly turned into an old sap yearning for disgusting, needful children? Why had she done this to herself?

The thought of John Cena – of his handsome features and their dirty time in bed together not so long ago, in her bed upstairs no less – soon captured her memory. But all too soon, the doorbell rang and burst that bubble.

"I'll get it then." Layla said when William made no move to get up and answer the front door himself.

She opened the door to her friend and was instantly grateful for the friendly presence Tiffany McIntyre brought to the Regal residence. "Hey, what's up?" She almost grinned. "You're here early. Is everything okay?"

"This is going to sound crazy," said Tiffany, a hopeful smile on her face, "but I was wondering if you had any plans for the next few days, and if you didn't, whether you'd like to come to a Raw show with me. I reckon it would do you and me both good to get away from here for a little while. What do you say?"

Layla stared at the blonde for a long moment. Then – without warning on the blonde's part – she rushed forwards and crushed her in a hug, having to step slightly aside to avoid the babies. Tiffany merely laughed, wondering what on earth had gotten into her friend.

* * *

So there's the next chapter. Please review :)

_Coming Up: While two of the housewives jet off out of Avidian Lane, it's date night for Eve and John..._


	23. Honesty is the Best Policy

**The Good Life**

_AN._ Thank you for all the reviews on the last chapter – I really do appreciate them :)  
Enjoy this next one...

* * *

_Chapter Twenty-Three – Honesty is the Best Policy_

* * *

Sitting alone in a dark, dim-lit lobby that doubled as a small bar, Ted DiBiase played with the gold band on his ring finger and stared morosely ahead.

He'd been holed up in here for nearly a week and as always when it came to this time of day and he saw a variety of loved-up couples arrive downstairs for their evening meal, he wondered again how _he_ was the one alone.

With one last twist of his ring, he returned his focus to the beer bottle in front of him and straddled it loosely in his hands; the chill of the fridge-cooled alcohol seeping through his fingers and settling into his skin did not better his mood.

Nor did the thought of his wife, who captured him more often than not these days with her glossy blonde waves and playful smirk. Only her smirk was now a little more mocking and insincere, bitter and unremarkable, in his mind.

But Maryse Ouellet was never unattractive. No matter how ugly he wanted to believe she was for her behaviour behind his back, the satisfaction of feeling that way never touched him; even in their screaming sessions at the house after they left Layla's humble abode and while he packed, she was still beautiful – maybe even more so – in her desperate state.

Dispelling the image of his wife in tears, Ted angled his head in the direction of the restaurant and drank in that image instead; people who he'd come to know the faces of from being here so long were there as usual, clinking wine glasses together in happiness and basking in their other half's presence.

That should have been him and Maryse. With the sudden urge to do so, he downed his beer in one.

"Can I ask you a question?" A bartender approached him. The blonde-haired man had just finished serving another customer and was watching him closely.

"You just did." He gave a sardonic smile. Then he softened, realising that it wasn't Jeremy – a man he'd definitely seen more of lately – he was mad at. "Sorry. Yeah, go ahead."

Jeremy shrugged lightly, as if contemplating how to say what he wanted to without offending him. He wiped down the bar with an old rag while he thought about it. "You've been here at the motel for a good few days now. I've seen you order so many drinks and it's obvious by the way you dress that you're not exactly poor. So, what are you doing here? Why haven't you checked into a classy hotel yet?"

That was a good question, but one the former WWE Champion knew he could answer. He'd thought about it of course; sitting in his motel room with the lights flickering and the television channel blanking out every so often, he'd _definitely_ thought about moving somewhere with more of a five-star reputation.

But the hotel he'd thought of was one he'd stayed at before – several times with Maryse – and the idea of going back there and having people recognise him and ask where his wife was, was a sickening idea.

Turning to Jeremy, he merely answered, "And miss out on the brilliance of this place? Why would I do that?" He got a small smirk in return for that answer.

Left alone again, the DiBiase man did the idiotic thing of checking his text messages. There were two brand new ones: one, unsurprisingly, from Maryse, and the other from his daughter. His heart ached while he replied to Emily and told her that he was okay and she should worry about an upcoming exam he knew she had instead.

Then he moved onto Maryse's text: _We have our counselling session tomorrow. Obviously you already know that because I've told you several times already... Ted, please come along for me? I NEED you to be there. Okay? I love you so, so much. M xx_

He swallowed lightly and slipped his cell phone back into his pocket. His mood turning even worse, Ted bid goodnight to Jeremy and walked out of the bar and back to his room. As soon as the door was shut behind him, he groaned and ran his hands over his face tiredly.

Why did he have to be in this situation?

The ring of his cell phone had him distracted and he gratefully answered when he saw the caller ID. Not five minutes later, he hung up and stared blankly ahead. _Now_ he really had a decision to make. He recalled Vince McMahon's words.

"_If you get on the next flight out, I can guarantee you a match with Randy Orton for the title. You could be a champion again..."_

He battled between thoughts of his cheating, no-good wife and the chance to lift that gold, glorious title high over his head again to the ovation of a brilliant Monday Night Raw crowd, and suddenly the choice seemed all too easy to make.

* * *

Seven-thirty seemed to arrive quickly for Eve Torres. Though her day had hardly been a struggle—one self-defence class taught this morning at the wrestling centre and various errands to run in the afternoon—she still found the time crept up on her now, and checked her watch in confusion as she rushed towards the door to answer it.

Behind it, John Cena stood in his best pair of jeans and a smart black shirt. He'd only rung the doorbell a few seconds ago, and so occupied the rest of his time by gazing around the peaceful neighbourhood; it was little surprise he found his eyes drawn to the Regal household.

Once again, the thought that he was somehow betraying his true feelings by going through with this date came to mind. That and one other thing – he quickly remembered the stoic expression on Alex's face just before he left for his shift at the hospital. Things weren't great between them.

Unaware of her date's thoughts, Eve stared at the closed door for a steadied moment. The brief image of Alex Riley popped up, but she chose to force it away. Then she opened the door and got her first glimpse of John Cena.

"Well don't you look smart?" She smiled as she welcomed him inside. Luckily, Logan was at the local basketball court tonight with his friends and they would have the house to themselves. "Right on time too. Punctual."

"And you look beautiful." He returned the compliment and followed her through to the kitchen. He didn't hide the fact he was checking her out in those figure-fitting jeans and a sparkly, silver top. "Something smells good."

A sweet laugh reached his ears. She turned to him by the oven. "I just have to warn you, my cooking isn't exactly up to scratch. The girls always remind me of a time that I gave them food poisoning and I'm sure if Logan was here, he'd tell you that take-out is the best food of all time."

John raised a playful eyebrow. "Should I be worried about eating whatever you're cooking right now then?"

"No, I don't think so..." She comically bit down on her bottom lip. "Maybe just a little bit," she admitted with a smile a moment later. "We'll see how it turns out, I guess. So, how was your day?"

"It was okay. I did a few jobs this morning and then went to the wrestling centre for an afternoon of training."

"Sounds like you're really invested in wrestling. I mean, Layla told me about your dream when we were talking about you—"

"The two of you were talking about me?"

After grabbing a couple of beers from a high cupboard—the one Logan hadn't been able to reach until just recently, thanks to his sudden height growth—she offered him one. He accepted and she shrugged, ready to answer his question. "So I might have wanted to scope you out before our date. I asked her if she knew anyone who knew you well, but it turned out she already knew a lot about you. I take it you two have talked quite a lot recently then?" She asked innocently.

John merely smiled. 'Talking' was one way to put it. Folding his muscular arms over his chest, he banished thoughts of Layla, and the way he'd taken her with a rough desire on her bed _that_ evening from his head. "I guess you could say that."

"Anyway, she told me you're a huge fan of wrestling and have been since you were a little kid. I think that's cool."

"I think it's cool that you've experienced all of it already. What was it like?"

Eve took a moment to think over her answer. She conjured up memories of the exciting time – before Chris Masters and the birth of their son. "It was... _incredible._ I know the girls miss it too, especially Layla."

"She does?" He queried, with more interest than he meant to impose on her. "Really? I wouldn't have guessed. I thought she had what she wanted with William Regal now..."

"I don't think so. She's one of my best friends and make no mistake that I _will_ kill you if you tell her what I'm about to say..." Her teasing smile had him giving her one in return. "We all know Layla likes the expensive things in life, and she found that with him. I can't say I really approved of it at the time when their engagement was announced—well, we weren't really friends then anyway—but at least she had the guts to go through with it."

"So, are you saying she doesn't really love him?"

"Uh... I'm not really sure. She might have some sort of affection for him deep down—_real deep down—_but I think what she really wanted was to have some sort of security while she wrestled. But then she had to give it up for him and that love kind of just... had to be pushed aside."

"I was under the impression she gave it up because she wanted this life instead. I didn't know she loved wrestling so much – and still does."

The brunette shook her head. When she was unable to register with his expression, she released a quick breath and spoke up again. "Anyway, I get the feeling we're talking about Layla too much here. Don't you?"

More than anything, he wanted to ask her several more questions about the British woman, but soon realised this would be inappropriate. Unsure how to feel, he told himself to mull over it all later when he wasn't on a date with the stunning brunette girl next door. "You're definitely right," he agreed with her comment.

They talked for a while longer while the food cooked, sipped at their beers and generally enjoyed each other's comments. More often than not, he took note of her cute smile and the way she would laugh at his jokes, and she felt a familiar stir of friendship towards him when she brought up the personal poker game they had yet to play against each other.

But that's all it was: friendship. They both felt it and yet said nothing.

The timer on the oven went off when she was in mid-sentence and she excused herself from the living room they'd settled in to pull dinner out of it. With a disappointed expression on her face, she peered both curiously and cautiously at the cottage pie steaming from its dish. It didn't exactly look like the picture on the packet... but what could she have done wrong?

She dished the meal out onto two plates and carried them through, and they ate for the first couple of minutes in silence.

Eve thought he might have grinned and told her she was a terrible cook, even asked why she bothered in the first place with a teasing smirk, but then realised John wasn't like that. Of course he would break the silence and laugh and tell her they would make the most of it they could.

Her smile dried quickly upon excusing herself to get another bottle of beer. It wasn't hard to decipher that she wanted that reaction from a man of its character, and that Alex Riley was the one she would have liked to have seen it from.

* * *

"Can I be honest with you about something?" Two hours later, Eve was feeling oddly empowered – or perhaps it was the wine talking. She'd switched from beer to wine to get her relaxed and in the mood for the date, and it had done its trick now.

John, still picking tough food out of his teeth from an hour ago, nodded. He had the feeling what she was about to say wouldn't exactly be something he wanted to hear. Or would it? Her tone of voice had him intrigued.

"I've had a fantastic time with you tonight and you've been so brilliant, especially when I was rambling on about Logan and his crush on Emily, like you were actually going to be interested in that—"

"But?" He laughed. "There's only so much rambling I can take, Eve."

"Oh right." The Latina looked up at him under thickly mascara-d eyelashes. "I really hope this isn't a one-sided thing, but I don't exactly feel like... well, it's just that... I'm not really sure if—"

"If we should be more friends, because that's all we feel towards each other." He finished off for her, impressively. "Is that what you were going to say?"

"Yes, pretty much. Are you mad?" After scanning his face for signs of this and instead finding a soft smile, she gave a sigh of relief. "Oh good, you're not. Wait, _why_ aren't you? You're the one who asked me out on a date!"

He contemplated telling her truth for a short moment. John soon gave his answer. "I guess I was trying to get over somebody and I thought the best way to do that was to take a chance at dating. We were getting along so well and I thought, why not? Why not just go for it?" He gave up half of the truth.

"Bad break-up?"

The man laughed. "Uh yeah, pretty much, but it's not a story I'll bore you with." He brought up the 'A' word a few seconds later to get them off the subject. "Besides, I can tell your heart wasn't in it either. I hope you know how much you talked about Alex..."

"I did?"

"Yes Eve, you did. But it's okay." He nudged her shoulder playfully and finished off the last of his second beer. "It turns out that he talks about you a lot too. Mostly insults you but you know what they say about boys that hate you... they secretly love you."

"You can just wipe that smirk off your face right now." In a friendly manner, she grinned and leaned into him on the couch, under the crook of his arm. He hugged her close to his chest. "I can't believe this is what the evening has turned into." After leaving a considerate amount of silence between them, she added, "Does he really talk about me a lot?"

John hung his head back and laughed. "You know what? I've talked about Alex enough and as your _friend_, I have to tell you, there's only so much a man can take. How about we talk about that poker game I'll beat your ass in at some point?"

"Oh you fancy your chances huh?" She teased.

The two squabbled for quite some time about the matter until finally, stifling a yawn, Eve looked up at him and smiled at his handsome features. She pecked him on the cheek and he turned to her, surprised at the gesture. "I can tell you're going to be an amazing friend. Any girl would be lucky to have you."

"And Alex will be lucky to have you." He offered in return. "When you get over yourself and admit that you want to be with him, that is..."

She hit him for that.

When they said goodbye at the door, Eve watched him jog down her porch steps and head next door again. After shutting the door, she leaned against it and nodded to herself. Perhaps it _was_ time to do something about Alex Riley. If she'd learnt anything tonight, it was that when you found something good with someone, you had to grab it with both hands and never let go.

Wandering into the kitchen to wash up, the brunette wore a light smile. Things had certainly been put into perspective for her this evening.

* * *

So there's the next chapter. Please review :)

_Coming Up: Waiting at the therapist's office for her husband to arrive, Maryse is in for a surprise when The Miz puts in an appearance..._


	24. The Important Question

**The Good Life**

_AN._ Thank you for all the reviews on the last chapter! Hope you enjoy this one :)

* * *

_Chapter Twenty-Four – The Important Question_

* * *

There were less than ten minutes to go until the appointment.

Bored of pretending to examine her nails, Maryse flicked her eyes to the loud, ticking clock nailed on the cream wall ahead of her. There was no mistaking the expression of distaste on her pinched features; surrounded by a pair of couples on either side of her while she sat alone and without her husband, she saw no reason to hide her bitter feelings.

As the seconds passed by, her hope diminished and she had to fight to keep her confident exterior up. The truth of the matter was quite simple by now: Ted DiBiase wouldn't be putting in an appearance today. She didn't even want to think about the embarrassment it would cause her to go in there alone.

Just as quickly as bitterness passed through her, so did disappointment. Had she been fooling herself with the notion that Ted would come along to the session? Was she simply dreaming that perhaps they could sort out their problems and go through with their second wedding?

She grimaced. If the situation was turned around – if Ted had cheated on her with another woman simply because they were having a few marital issues – she wouldn't bother turning up either.

"A place like this doesn't suit you."

So involved in her thoughts, the blonde had lost sense of her surroundings. She snapped her head upwards at the sound of the familiar voice greeting her ears and found herself staring into her husband's eyes. Ted's stare was slightly off and cold, but his eyes were beautiful nonetheless; familiar and brooding and a comfort to her.

"You came." She uttered stupidly, lost in the shock of the moment.

He appeared to ignore this and carried on with his own set of thoughts. "This place definitely doesn't suit you. It's depressing and colourless and you... you're certainly not."

Cautiously, she reached for his hand. "I don't think separation suits us, Ted."

He acknowledged this but said nothing. If she was saddened by this, the housewife moved past it when, with her hand still in his, he took the vacant seat next to hers. Even if their future looked bleak, the grip they had on one another was strong.

Maryse thought of this moment as odd. It felt like they were two strangers pushed together again, unsure how to act around one another, and she simply knew he was feeling this way too.

Finally, she angled her head in his direction. "What made you decide to come?"

He caught her gaze and waited a moment before speaking. "I got a call from Vince last night. He said that if I came back I would automatically become the number one contender for the WWE Championship."

"Oh..."

"And I imagined stepping back into the ring and becoming a champion again." He stopped for a moment, as if thinking about the opportunity one last time. Then his eyes locked onto hers again. "But you wouldn't leave my mind. No matter how much I wanted to—and believe me I did—I realised I couldn't leave you behind again. Life on the road is tough, but it would be tougher if I didn't have a gorgeous wife and daughter supporting me."

"Ted, that's beautiful."

"But it doesn't mean I can just forgive you. The thought of you and this Mike guy sleeping together behind my back disgusts me."

Maryse nodded. "Well that's why we're here – to work through all of that. I _know_ we can."

The wrestler didn't reply to this, but she did feel his fingers slip out of her grip. Unsure how to feel but evidently hurt, she tried for his gaze again, only to find he wasn't even remotely interested in her right now.

Ted stood to his feet; his face was flushed with anger and his jaw was clenched. He was about to confront Mike Mizanin, the man who'd just walked through the door and was heading in their direction minutes before their appointment.

* * *

Layla was used to putting on her best smile for a situation that didn't suit her.

When William's family and friends had come to the states for a visit she had been the perfect housewife; she was silently wishing them all into their early graves while displaying her finest grin. The same could be said for when John Cena made his appearance on the street and they had to pretend they hadn't met before their first poker night; inside, she was dying to replace her smile with a frown.

Right now however, in this very moment, her smile was very much genuine. For most of the day, the former Diva hadn't been able to tear it from her face while doing her duty; catching up with old wrestler friends, watching a few training sessions and being back in the WWE atmosphere once again.

Even Tiffany was surprised when they caught up at the end of the day. "You look radiant! Lay, are you alright?"

"I guess... I guess you could say I'm coming back to grips with the wrestling world and realising how much I missed it. It almost makes me want to get back in the ring and kick someone's ass again. I miss it all."

The words she'd uttered stuck with her now as she paced around her hotel room and thought about her day. Though she was on the phone to William, her mind was focused solely on everyone she'd caught up with today.

She and Michelle McCool – the current reigning Diva's Champion – were able to slip back into an easy friendship again, just like the one they'd shared years ago as the heel stable, "Laycool". The blonde had mentioned that she was close to retiring and one step closer to acquiring the life the housewife now had, but the very thought made Layla shudder.

Pushed closer to the ring, she caught up with old trainers and old friends – one of those being Goldust, who now managed the women's division. They were involved in a good conversation for the most part of twenty minutes; he deferred back to her 'inevitable' return quite a lot.

Everywhere she turned, Layla was surprised. Had she been that popular back in the day? Everyone wanted her back in the game, strutting down to the ring and challenging an opponent for the silver butterfly. And she had to say, she didn't protest to the very idea...

"I'm going out with a couple of the girls now, William, so I really have to go." The British woman lied as she felt around in her suitcase. The moment her fingers coiled around what she'd been looking for, she wrapped the conversation up. "Yes honey, I miss you too. I'll see you in a few days." She hung up before he could throw any baby talk at her.

After tossing her cell phone down on the bed, she gripped the newly-found video tape in her hand and stared at it for a good few seconds in the silence she had to herself. In her left hand was an old training tape, featured on which was John Cena, who was giving his all in an impromptu match against an old friend of theirs. Layla was behind the camera filming it all, proud of her boyfriend.

She tucked the tape into her designer bag before she could slip back onto memory lane and headed for the door. Before her dinner date with Tiffany this evening, she _had_ to get this one task done.

Stephanie McMahon was the first important face she ran into when she arrived at the arena a short ten minutes later. Their conversation was brief—started off by conversation of the time when she and William feuded with CM Punk and Stephanie was involved in a couple of segments—and then she was handing the tape over, asking for it to be put in the hands of the right people, and walking off again.

A huge relief lifted away from her shoulders while she drove away from the Smackdown arena. Under the impression that she would never be able to make up for what she did to her ex-lover with William, at least she knew now that she'd done her best to rectify the situation.

There was no guarantee that John's tape would even be watched, but she certainly hoped it would.

"Every time I see you there's a huge grin on your face," said Tiffany later on in the evening, tucking into her prawn stir-fry at the restaurant they'd chosen. "I think the wrestling atmosphere suits you."

The housewife only smiled. "I was just thinking the same thing."

* * *

"What the _hell_ are you doing here?"

Maryse wasn't entirely sure what to do with herself as her husband and her ex-lover squared off against one another. Thankfully, the couples that'd been waiting with her beforehand had either left or were in their appointments, so it was just the three of them and the dozing receptionist out in the waiting area.

Out of habit, she picked at her nails while she watched the two of them. What was going on? Why was Mike here? Didn't he know the trouble he was getting himself into?

"I knew she would be here," said Mike, replying to the wrestler but looking straight at the French-Canadian woman. "I need to talk to you, Maryse. I need to convince you that you're making a mistake."

"The only mistake is you having the nerve to show up." Ted rolled up his sleeves in a threatening manner. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't knock you out right now."

If it hadn't been inappropriate, Maryse might have inwardly shuddered in delight at her husband's behaviour and smirked at how _hot_ he was in that very moment. She had wanted this all along – to feel wanted by him, to feel like she belonged to him and no-one else. That wonderful feeling was returning to her.

After returning her attention to Mike, the former Diva felt that mood slip. He was staring right at her; those blue eyes piercing hers so expertly while he ignored the other man. She'd seen those eyes stare into hers after their love-making sessions, and now she was being reminded of the heated exchanges more than she liked to be.

"Maryse," he argued on, "You told me how terrible he made you feel about yourself – and now you're just going to go back to him because he paid you a little bit of attention? Who was there for you while he was away with the company? _I _was. I comforted you, I dried your tears and I was the one to hold you in my arms after we made love—"

"It was just sex."

"Really? _Really?"_ His eyes narrowed towards her. "Because you sound like you're having trouble believing that. You can't tell me that what we had wasn't real, because it was and you know it."

The blonde hesitated in her answer. As much as she didn't want to believe The Miz, he had a point; she was caught up in a whirlwind of emotions at the time of their affair, and one thing she could remember clearly was how much he cared for her. He never made her feel anything else other than loved.

Ted turned to her. "Maryse?"

She snapped out of her thoughts. "Ted is my husband and I love him. I want to make things work between us – I'm not prepared to give up on him."

"Just remember that it was you who came to me. I never pressured you into anything. I'm standing in front of you now asking... asking for you to just give _me_ a chance. There's always going to be a problem when it comes to you and Ted. He's an asshole—"

Before the sentence was even finished, the DiBiase man came down hard on The Miz, shoving him backwards with forceful palms. He'd seemingly had enough of the speech coming from his wife's ex-lover. With the thought of the two together behind his back set in his mind, he stepped forwards again, only for Maryse to step in the middle of them.

"This is neither the time nor place!" She announced, haughtily. "Ted, you know I love you. Please back down. Miz..." She turned to him and sighed. "Just leave. I'm asking you nicely to go."

Mike glared at Ted. Softening his gaze, he focused on the blonde woman in-between them. "I'm not giving up on you." He announced before taking his leave. They both watched him leave through the front door in silence.

"I'm sorry about that. I didn't know he would come here."

The former champion ignored her words and went to sit back down again. He slowed his heart rate back to its normal rhythm and stared down at the floor beneath his feet. He'd been so close to decking the guy and if it hadn't been for Maryse getting in the middle of them, he was sure he would have done.

Maryse lingered near to him but didn't take the seat next to his. Knowing him as well as she did, she knew he needed time to calm down and time away from her.

A friendly face greeted them a few tense moments later. Oblivious to the recent scene between her lover and her husband, Isabelle Johnson walked up to them, hand outstretched towards both of them. "You must be the DiBiases. Come on in to my office."

They followed dutifully. Feeling very much unlike herself in this sort of environment, Maryse acted cautiously as she took in the decor of Isabelle's office.

An impressively large bookcase spread across the back wall crammed with all sorts of colourful items; a fluffy beige carpet was placed expertly underneath a clear-glass coffee table, and behind it sat a worn-in leather couch where she presumed they would sit for their first session. With the sunlight streaming in, the place exuded warmth and belonging.

Relaxing considerably, the couple followed her instructions to take a seat and Isabelle, a moment later, took her own seat in the armchair opposite. After sweeping her long brunette locks over onto one shoulder, she offered her best professional smile. "We've talked briefly on the phone but I think this is the first time we've met."

"Yeah, that's right." Ted answered. He was still looking around and taking everything in.

Isabelle was already jotting down notes on her open notepad. Maryse narrowed her eyes, wondering what was being written down, but replaced the suspicious look with a pleasant smile when the therapist's focus was returned to them.

"You both obviously know why you're here. You've acknowledged that your relationship has hit a rough patch." Isabelle shifted in her seat and cleared her throat. "And that's where I come in. I'm here to help you on your journey. But I do have one question to ask you before we get started and I need an honest answer for it."

Ted stopped looking around to face her and to take in her appearance for the first time. She was a pretty woman and obviously knew how to dress herself; a black pencil skirt and ruffled white blouse, her long legs accentuated by a sleek pair of heels. She looked like she knew what she was talking about.

Maryse was less interested in what she was wearing. "What's the question?"

Isabelle gave another of her winning smiles. "You've come here to get help regarding the state of your marriage. All I want to know is this – are you both _ready_ to take this step? Are you both prepared to work on this, even in difficult times and aim to reach the goals you want to achieve? Because if you're not committed to fixing your relationship, the door is right there and you should walk out of it now." Her smile had dropped by now. Serious, she asked, "Ted... Maryse, what are your answers?"

* * *

So there's the next chapter. Please review :)

_Coming up: In the comfort of Evan's arms, Tiffany breaks down._


	25. Hold Onto Me

**The Good Life**

_AN._ Long time no see! Hi there! Enjoy this chapter :)

* * *

_Chapter Twenty-Five – Hold Onto Me_

* * *

It seemed like no matter what happened, Alex Riley couldn't seem to get away from the hospital; clingy patients, inquisitive relatives of those patients and strict doctors all prevented him from leaving through those exit doors, and he was beginning to wonder if he would ever make it home that morning.

After completing yet another chart and handing it into the right station, he collapsed in one of the staff rooms on the ground floor, needing a moment just to himself for a little while. He was too tired to even contemplate getting the bus home right now.

"Need a ride?" Just like that, Carly Peterson arrived in his life like the perfect angel-like figure, dressed in a cute summer dress and with her blonde hair down and framing her smiling features.

It always surprised him to realise how pretty she was out of scrubs and in normal clothing. As a work colleague almost always by his side in cases, Carly was often wearing the green, unsexy apparel and had her hair tied up in a tight bun, her face always make-up-less. Looking at her now, it was like looking at a different person.

"Why are you staring at me like that, creep?" And then she opened her mouth and he remembered who he was dealing with.

"Whatever." He stood to his feet. "But yes to the ride. You know where I live right?"

"Avidian Lane, according to your personal records. I can't believe you're living in such an upper class place. Not good enough to live like us normal people huh?"

"It's not as perfect as you're making it out to be," said Alex as they walked towards the parking lot, "and I think the important thing to consider here is why you were looking through my personal records... and _how_ you got them."

"I can't tell you that. A girl has to have her secrets."

"Sure she does." He drawled sarcastically.

Carly merely gave her best teasing smile. They arrived at her car a short while later, and after unlocking it, slipped into their seats. "So with you living on Avidian Lane you're not that far away from me. I'm a couple of blocks out – though I do share my apartment with two other girls."

"Oh yeah? Are they hot?"

She hit him for that. "Do you always have to be so gross?"

"Hell yes, that's our dynamic here: you're the bitch and I'm the disgusting one."

"I guess you're right about that." With a smile, the blonde pulled out of the space and headed for the exit. "Just putting this out there: we don't make a bad team."

"Apart from the times you tease me and try to convince people I'm gay behind my back," said the doctor, laughing, "but yeah, other than that..."

The blonde shrugged and turned on the radio. When Alex gave her a look, silently motioning that he didn't particularly like her choice of music, she gave the elegant response of "tough shit" and turned it up. There was small talk on the ride home, with the adults thinking respectively about the problems they had to face when they got home.

While it was simple for Carly—how _should_ she get Lauren back for borrowing her dress the previous evening and puking up down the front of it?—Alex had a much harder task on his hand. It was no surprise that Eve entered his thoughts. Instantly, he inwardly cursed himself; why was it that no matter how many times he told himself not to think about her he ended up doing it anyway?

"What are you thinking about?"

He left his thoughts of John and Eve having the perfect date together to look at Carly. She broke her concentration on the road for a brief moment to raise a perfectly plucked brow at him. She wanted an answer and he was taking too long. He scratched at the back of his neck. "Just... about how tired I am."

"Boring. I expected juicy gossip." Carly smiled.

_And I expected to get over Eve by now. I gave her the ultimatum... she made her choice. _He straightened out in his seat. Alex was suddenly realising how ridiculous it was to waste his time over Eve Torres. If she was going to move on with John Cena, why shouldn't he? He'd given her a threat and now it was time to live up to it.

"Carly?"

"Yeah, goofball?"

He turned to her suddenly, enamoured by this new idea of his. "Do you think you might want to go out on a date with me sometime?"

* * *

It surprised Tiffany to realise how much she missed the wrestling world. Speaking to Layla about it at dinner yesterday evening, the brunette was full of life about her positive feelings on the matter of being back, even if it was only for a few days, and she'd nodded and agreed with some points but never thought she would have the same enthusiasm as her friend.

Now? She wasn't so sure.

"I feel like we're getting into a pattern now," said Evan Bourne as he walked into the room with two iced coffees in his hand and a brown paper bag underneath his arm. "You, me, coffees – I've never had so much caffeine in my system as I do now and you're clearly to blame."

The blonde assessed his friendly smile as he handed hers over. Was the atmosphere the reason she was happy to be here or was it the guy stood in front of her? "I'd apologise but they're delicious and I know you enjoy them, so it's not going to happen." She teased. "You were quick getting it all though."

"I would have been quicker, but I ran into Kofi as I was coming back into the arena. I might have to head off early for another training session..." He offered an apologetic look.

"It's no problem. If it's alright, I'd love to come and watch you guys. I could say I was there watching the two future tag team champions at the very beginning of their official alliance. Sounds good, doesn't it?"

"Yeah it does – I especially liked the part where you mentioned us as 'future tag team champions'. Sounded fantastic." After taking a sip of his coffee, he made a satisfied noise. "When you go back to your life and leave me here I'm going to tell everyone you're the one to blame for me being hyperactive all the time. All this caffeine, I'm telling you..."

"I was just showing you what you were missing all this time." Winking at him, Tiffany eased herself onto her feet. It was getting trickier every day. The twins were growing all the time... and kicking, too. That part of pregnancy was something she could do without. "So, is the training session starting now? Please don't tell me I went to the effort of standing up for nothing."

"Luckily for you," he swung an arm around her as they exited the locker room and stepped into the arena corridors, "Yes, it is. Here's your salad by the way. Is that all you eat now?"

"No, I just really find myself liking it. It's boring but I'm craving it."

Salad talk turned into general conversation and for the two minutes they were walking towards the set-up ring she was completely at ease. There was a nagging thought in her mind to do with Drew when Evan asked about him, but otherwise, she managed to give her best poker face. When they arrived she waved to Kofi, who was already warming up in the ring with a bottle of water in his corner, and took a seat to get herself comfortable for the session.

She felt content.

* * *

"_Here is your winner and the NEW World Heavyweight Champion, Drew McIntyre!"_

_For a moment, the newly-signed Scottish superstar allowed himself a moment to think of the words he'd uttered quietly through his mouth as true. He closed his eyes as he stood in his gym shorts in the middle of the empty ring and pushed his arms out in his signature pose. He could already hear the boos rolling in from around the arena—why wouldn't they hiss at the cocky newcomer who came in so swiftly and won the gold for himself?—and he could almost feel how wonderful the glorious moment would be._

_But a sweet girl-ish giggle was not a part of the celebration he'd pictured in his mind and his eyes snapped open to find a familiar blonde looking up at him. Tiffany Terrell was gorgeous, he wouldn't even bother to deny it, and he couldn't help but take note of the long legs she showed off in that cheerleader skirt of hers as she climbed the steel steps to join him._

"_Can I help you?" He asked, now aware that he might have looked like an idiot in front of her. He placed his hand on his hips. Would that help him look masculine in front of her? He debated on what pose to go for, casually moving his arms, until she answered him._

"_Do you have a twitch?" A smile settled onto her clear-glossed lips as she came to a stop in front of him. Secretly, she thought it was cute that he was making the effort to act as casually as he could in front of her now she'd caught him out. "Anyway, sorry to disturb you..."_

"_It's alright. I was just finishing up anyway."_

"_Great."_

"_Are you meeting someone here?"_

_Tiffany set down her empty coffee cup in the corner and gave an embarrassed little shrug. "I'm not actually, no. I'm not sure why I'm telling you this really – I mean I think this is the first time I've ever talked to you, so call me crazy for speaking so openly... sorry, I'm rambling. I do that a lot sometimes. But anyway, I like to come here alone sometimes and if I'm lucky enough to get some downtime, I just sit here."_

"_You just... sit here."_

"_Well it sounds silly, but it helps me focus. If I'm in the right state of mind – if I imagine something wonderful – then it makes me feel more in control when I go out there for every Smackdown show."_

_This woman was perfect. Drew was sure of it as he stared at her in a new light. Though she stood opposite him in her ring attire and with her hair up in a messy bun save for the few strands curled around her neck, he'd never seen such a beautiful creature. How had it taken him this long to properly see her for who she was?_

"_What? Have I got something on my face?"_

_He cleared his throat. "Would you believe me if I said I was just doing the same thing?"_

"_Oh yeah?" Intrigued, she asked, "What were you doing in your imagination?"_

"_Winning the World Heavyweight Championship."_

"_Ah, in mine I become the number one contender for the women's championship against Michelle McCool. Baby steps," said Tiffany, smiling at him. "Well... I should probably get settled so I can imagine up my title match."_

"_I'll leave you to it."_

_He was two steps away from exiting the ring when she called out, mouse-like and unsure, to his back. "Unless you want to stay? I don't mind. We can... get to know each other."_

_The Scottish wrestler hid his smile before he turned back around again. "Sure, it's not like I have anything better to do." Only when they were lying down on their backs next to each other in the middle of the ring, looking up at the high ceiling and revelling in the silence, did he realise this was the most comfortable he'd felt since joining the blue roster._

"_We should hang out sometime – outside of the ring, I mean." Tiffany angled her head in his direction._

_Drew turned to look at her. He pretended to consider this for a moment, not wishing to look too eager, and gave a contemplative shrug. "Yeah, I guess we should."_

_They both turned away from each other and smiled to themselves._

* * *

She wasn't entirely sure what happened. One minute she was happily watching Evan and Kofi conversing in the ring, and the next she was off into dreamland and remembering the first time she introduced herself to Drew McIntyre, her now-husband. Tiffany definitely wanted to blame it on the hormones as, highly embarrassed, she let out a loud sobbing sound and both men turned to face her.

The tears came quickly and effortlessly. The pregnant housewife covered her face as best as she could and crumpled into herself, begging for it all to stop. She didn't _want_ to be like this.

"Tiff, are you okay?" She heard Evan's comforting voice nearby. He sounded concerned for her. "Hey, I sent Kofi away for a break if you want to talk, just you and me. I'm here for you."

She looked up and sniffed. The highflyer pulled up a chair beside her and placed a soothing hand on her back. She braced herself. "I haven't told you this... in fact, I've lied to you... but I've been having problems at home."

"With what?"

"With Drew," said the blonde, filling in the blanks, and wiped at her eyes while she tried to pull herself together again. "We've been having issues for a while. It started at the end of our honeymoon. My cast isn't from me being clumsy... it's from an attack on me. Drew just watched as I was attacked and some random guy had to help me before I got hurt or worse. It's been tough for us ever since."

"God, I had no idea. You seemed so cheerful. The stories you told me when we met up for coffee... Tiff, why didn't you tell me about this?"

"I don't know. I just wanted you to believe I have this perfect life. I bragged to you before I left that although I was sad to leave wrestling, this life would be better for me. Now look at me – what is there to brag about?"

"The fact that you're going to be a first-time mother in a matter of months. You didn't brag; you teased. That was the nature of our friendship and it always has been. We're playful together. I know you're stronger than this." He pulled her in for a hug and stroked her hair while she sniffed against his chest. "If there's one thing you are, it's strong."

"You have no idea how much I love you for saying that. Lately I've just felt like a mess, like I don't know what to do with myself."

Evan broke the embrace to look her in the eyes. "And what do you want to do now?"

Tiffany considered the question. All of a sudden it seemed as clear as day. She knew the exact reason why she was behaving this way, and it wasn't to do with the breakdown of her marriage. It was something obvious to her now, something she wanted to work on as soon as possible. "I think... I _think_ I want to go home and fix my marriage before it's too late."

* * *

So there's the next (short-ish) chapter. Please review :)

_Coming up: There's danger ahead for one of the housewives..._


	26. Danger in the Dark

**The Good Life**

_AN._ Hello! Are you ready for another chapter? :)

* * *

_Chapter Twenty-Six – Danger in the Dark_

* * *

It was far chillier than Emily expected it to be. As she rounded the corner, spotting the basketball courts in the near distance, she tugged her black jacket closer around her frame and hugged her arms. She wasn't actually sure if it was the cold that was making her shiver; perhaps it was the anticipation of the person she was going to see and the topic they would be discussing.

Every day this week Logan had been hitting the courts for some alone time after school so she knew it would be no surprise to see him here now, but the relief that hit her when she saw his familiar figure moments later still travelled through her.

"You're out late tonight."

Almost jumping out of his skin, Logan's response was to drop the orange ball in his hand and let it roll away. "Jesus Emily," he breathed, "You scared the hell out of me."

"Don't worry I'm not a serial killer. It's just me, Emily DiBiase, that blonde girl who lives on your street. Though by the look on your face it seems like you'd rather I was a psychopath..."

"No it's not that. I'm just surprised to see you. Why are you here anyway? It's getting dark – did you walk all the way here?"

"I may have my comfiest converses on but are you kidding? I got the bus." Walking in them now, she picked up the basketball he'd dropped and played with it in her hands. "I wanted to talk to you about Tyler... and actually I wanted to thank you too. This past week has been tough on me and you've been there when I needed someone."

This was true. He recalled consoling her in the library when she broke down, keeping her company every day after school, distracting her from the stress of a broken home, and filling in as the role of temporary boyfriend even though she had an official one.

"You're welcome. So, what are you here to tell me? Are you breaking up with him?"

Guiltily, the blonde shook her head. "No... I don't know yet." She added hastily at the look on his face. "I still have some things to consider."

"Like how he said those things about your mom and bragged about it in front of his friends? Like how he hasn't been there for you at all while I have? Those sorts of things?"

"This is tough for me, Logan; I've been with him for so long..."

"And we grew up together. We've known each other for fifteen years. Don't you think that means more, Emz?"

The girl swallowed lightly as she held his intense stare. He'd used the nickname on her, which was something that made her feel even worse about herself. She owed a lot to this boy and she knew it, but how was she supposed to handle it? She and Logan Torres weren't meant to be like this or have this sort of relationship. Why were they like this after fifteen years of knowing each other?

He took her silence for something else. "You know how I feel about you. I think it's pretty obvious to anyone by now." Logan gently took the ball away from her. Suddenly she felt vulnerable; folding her arms across her chest and simply listening to his words. "You can stay with a guy like Tyler but you know you're not going to be happy with him and you know you don't belong together."

"What – and we do? The story of two people growing up together and falling in love sounds great on paper but it doesn't work for us—"

"So don't fall for me, I'll deal with it. I've developed a friendship with you recently and I'm happy to keep up with that for as long as I can. I know what _I'm_ getting out of this. But what are you getting out of staying with him? If you're not going to break up with him for me, then at least do it for yourself. You deserve better than that jerk."

"You're right." Emily surprised even herself by agreeing and admitting the facts. "I just don't think it'll be easy to tell him it's over. I'm scared I'll look him in the eye and get cold feet. He's so charming..."

"The guy's a creep." He shook his head. Making to leave, he brushed past her. "But only you can do this. If it doesn't happen then... well, I'm not sure this friendship can last. I can't stand by and watch you get belittled by him every day. I _won't _stand by and watch it happen, Emz—"

Hearing him talk so passionately caught her and she couldn't seem to control herself as she jogged to keep up with him, blocked his path and went on her tiptoes to press her lips against his. It took Logan, in his surprised stupor, a few seconds to realise what was happening, but then he was kissing her back, wondering how his first kiss with her had completely surpassed his expectations.

* * *

"I cannot believe that you, Maryse Ouellet, the most glamorous person I know, are picking up a fatty takeout for your dinner. This has made my night."

"_Your night must have been pretty terrible to start with then. Maybe try spicing it up a bit?"_

Driving into town at around seven that evening, Eve rolled her eyes and shook her head before focusing her attention on the road again. Her fellow housewife was currently on speaker from the passenger's seat. "Spice it up – maybe I should have an affair behind my husband's back?" When silence followed her joke, she winced. "Was that too soon?"

"_Hmm..." _Another torturous silence for the brunette. _"No, I'm impressed. I like the catty side to you, Eve; sometimes I think it suits you. Anyway, yes I'm getting Chinese tonight – I figure I deserve it after my last therapy session with Ted."_

"It doesn't sound like it's going well if you're indulging yourself in fast food."

"_Actually it's going a lot better than expected. This is a treat for us because we're making real progress. It's too early to decide whether the second wedding is going ahead but for now, I'm happy. Mike is out of my life and I feel like I have a purpose as Ted's wife again."_

"That's great news, Maryse." She smiled. Reaching her destination, she cut the engine and sat back. "Isn't it weird how much has changed in the last couple of months? What happened to our lives – it's like an emotional hurricane just came barging in and took us all over."

"_I just hope the storm is over."_

"Well said – I hope so too. Listen I'm here so I'll let you go, but don't forget we have our shopping trip tomorrow. Bye."

The Latina gathered her things together in a rush, already savouring the smell of the Indian takeout place she'd just parked outside of, and stepped out of her car. As she walked inside she made a mental note in her head: _learn how to cook. If not for your sake, then for Logan's. _She told herself this every time, but ultimately knew that she would never be a great cook, and that she would always fall for the charms of an easy meal instead.

"... Eve?"

Having walked straight in and made a beeline straight for the menu, the housewife hadn't been all that bothered to see who else was waiting for their food this evening. Turning at the familiar voice, she found herself facing Alex Riley and an unfamiliar blonde girl; they were sitting closely together and had been there for quite a while by her judgement.

"Oh Alex, hi. How weird to see you here." She gave a smile, though she knew it wasn't weird in the slightest. This place was one of the most common in town. Why shouldn't he be here with... her? "And this is?"

"Right, this is Carly. I work with her. We were just picking up some food before heading back to mine."

"That's... fantastic." How strange, her smile was feeling a little tight. Eve toned it down and cleared her throat. "Well I'm going to order so... it was nice to meet you, Carly. I'll see you around Alex." With that said she turned back around.

Moments later, Alex was by her side and talking in a discreet tone of voice. "Is everything okay?"

"Yes of course, why wouldn't it be?" But she didn't give him time to answer her question and turned to him instead to add, "So you're dating huh?"

"Actually—"

"Good for you, Alex."

He studied her for a moment. When she became uncomfortable under his gaze, a smirk began to curve his lips. "Oh I get it. You're _jealous._"

"I'm not jealous. That's absurd."

"No you're definitely jealous." He folded his arms over his chest. "What's the matter with you, Eve? First you don't want to be with me because you plan to date Cena and now you're not happy because you see me with another woman? Can't you make up your mind?"

_Forget it. _Eve thought and turned to leave. _We have leftover pizza in the fridge; Logan can make do with that. _"Bye, Alex." She could sense him close behind her as she left the building and out in the cold, she turned to face him, unsurprised that he was there. "What?"

"You don't get to be mad at me. You made your decision and now you have to stick with it. If you're going to be mad at someone take a look at yourself." Then he disappeared inside.

She huffed as she stood in the dark and watched after him as he rejoined Carly. Then she hurried to her car and back into the safety it offered her. A moment later, she collapsed and rested her head on the steering wheel. It was safe to say that Alex Riley drove her crazy.

* * *

After finishing up the last morsel of her meal, Maryse looked up and was greeted to the surprised look on her husband's face as he watched her. She laughed, the melodious sound echoing through the kitchen as they sat at the counter; Ted still couldn't believe they were eating the fatty food she had always been so quick to bat away with disgust.

"I know I'm going to regret it," she said as she stood to make a start on clearing up, "but that was good. Did you enjoy yours?"

"Are you kidding? After ten years of having to eat in the car and air out the smell afterwards just to hide it from you it's a blessing to be able to relax and eat it in the house."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "You did what?"

The wrestler smiled as he took the plates from her and began to load the dishwasher. "Nothing darling, I didn't do a thing." He said smoothly.

To herself, Maryse smiled and stepped out into the hallway to find her shoes. She hadn't expected to be called such affectionate names again so soon. Then again she hadn't expected him to move back in either. So he wasn't sharing her bed just yet, choosing instead to sleep in the guest bedroom at night, but it felt like they were getting back to being a family and that was okay with her. She would wait for him happily – for as long as it took. It was the little things they had to familiarise themselves with first.

"Where are you going?"

"Just going to take out the trash."

"But the maid's here tomorrow. She usually does that."

"I know but I think it's time I start pulling my weight around here again. It might not stick but we'll see." After putting on her heels, she was greeted to a kiss on the cheek from him. "And if I get a kiss each time maybe it will stick after all." She was left with Ted's smile as he disappeared into the living room. God, she'd missed that smile.

Her first surprise of the evening came when she went to open the door, only to find it nearly smacked her in the face as her teenage daughter came through it. "Woops sorry," Emily apologised instantly, though the strange smile on her face suggested she really wasn't.

"What's gotten into you? You look... happy."

"I'm just so happy that you and Dad are back together again." The blonde shrugged. After a moment, she giggled and rushed upstairs and out of sight. Maryse watched her suspiciously, and then decided to leave her to it, slipping out of the door and down the long pathway of her home.

It was chilly tonight, and definitely dark, and the housewife wished she'd put on a jacket as she held the trash at an arm's distance away from her while she walked. The cold didn't stop her smile from turning into a full-on grin however; Ted was on her mind again. She hadn't thought a week ago that it was possible for her situation to ever be resolved. Now she was getting back on track.

The French-Canadian woman sang her old WWE theme under her breath as she put the trash into separate bins. She was about to turn and head back into the warmth of her house when she spotted a truck at the end of the street. The engine and headlights were on and in the powerful light, she thought she could see The Miz behind the wheel.

_What's he doing here? _A weary sigh spilled from her lips as she considered what she was about to do. After an anxious look back at the house, knowing that Ted was back in there oblivious to what was happening out here, she moved down Avidian Lane to go and talk to him. She would tell him to back off, to go home or go away, because it was no use in him being here.

The headlights cut out as she was approaching. Confused, she stopped for a moment – then her attention was caught by the sound of heels behind her. Well they definitely weren't hers. Suddenly frightened, she turned to face whoever was behind her... this was her second surprise of the evening. "Mickie? Mickie James? What the hell are you doing here?"

"You stole him from me."

"_Excuse me?"_

"I told everyone in the locker room I was going to ask Ted out and you stole him from me before I got the chance. You knew I liked him." The short brunette pointed an accusing finger in her direction. "And as if that wasn't enough, you spread lies about me and made me lose my job."

Maryse relented. She _had _been a bitch back then and far from liked; eager to cement her place in the WWE, she'd snared Ted for superficial reasons and to piss off her biggest rival. But she hadn't been the cause of Mickie's demise. The brunette had grown tardy and uninspired for work – _that_ was what helped her on her way to being future endeavoured. "That was years ago. Come on Mickie, what are you doing here?"

"You put me at my lowest and it's about time you paid for what you did. I want to make you feel the way you made me feel. It doesn't matter how long ago it happened, the pain is still there."

The blonde didn't quite know what to do. She angled her head in Mike's direction, trying desperately to put the pieces together. Then – when she eventually did – she turned in order to try and get out of it, heartbroken and feeling used, only for an unexpected blow to hit her in the side of the head. She fell to the ground instantly. Kick after kick bruised her abdomen until she heard Mike's voice in the distance, telling her to stop, to hurry up so they could go.

Maryse was left on the ground clutching her stomach. It wasn't until the car roared past her and out of the lane that she finally gave in to the darkness and slipped into a state of unconsciousness.

* * *

So there's the next chapter. Please review :)

_Coming up: Layla and Tiffany return from their trip, while Maryse wakes up in hospital._


	27. This Could Be Paradise

**The Good Life**

_AN._ New year + a new update – enjoy! :)

* * *

_Chapter Twenty-Seven – This Could Be Paradise_

* * *

"Avidian Lane has never looked as beautiful as it does now."

Amused, Layla angled her head in Tiffany's direction while they sat comfortably in the back seat of a silver Mercedes, being driven to their glamorous destination by a personal chauffeur. It was alright for some; the blonde had a husband to get back to so they could live their idyllic lifestyle, whereas she had... William Regal. She grimaced as she focused her attention outside again.

Tiffany continued, unaware that anything was amiss. "I can't wait to see Drew again. Did you know he's back from the Smackdown tour?"

"I do – and do you want to know how I know? Because you won't shut up about him. I love you Tiff, but what's gotten into you?"

The housewife merely gave her sweetest smile. "I'm just excited to get back to the love of my life that's all. I've missed him. You should feel the same way about William."

The British woman declined to comment. In fact she didn't speak until her friend slipped out of the car to head inside, and that was only to say goodbye.

The rest of the short one minute journey was quiet; she couldn't help but feel incomplete on her way back to the Regal household. She'd had a real sense of livelihood roaming around the Raw corridors of the WWE arena and it was there that she realised she wasn't entirely done with the business. This upper class lifestyle she thought she wanted for herself? Well it just wasn't what she desired anymore. This place had lost its sparkle... and so, she thought depressingly, had she.

After thanking the driver for retrieving her suitcases from the back, she was left alone with only the view of Avidian Lane to keep her company. Unsurprisingly her gaze landed on the Riley household; John's car was in the driveway so there was a good chance he was home. The memory of the last time they talked properly quickly came to mind, as if in an instant that she simply couldn't push away even if she wanted to. Those words exchanged, _that_ kiss...

Layla shook her head, told herself to stop reminiscing on a lost love and turned on her heel, wheeling her things inside to a quiet house. Her maid brushed past her with the friendliest smile she could muster up, but she ignored the gesture as she clambered upstairs with her things and into her bedroom. To give herself a moment of breathing space she sat gingerly on the edge of her king-sized bed.

What was happening to her? She'd always been strong and confident in herself – _always. _Why did John Cena have to come along and ruin that for her? The former Diva wasn't someone who had to have a man in her life, no matter what her past decisions said about her, but it was different with him; he had been her rock in the past while dealing with difficult situations... and in all honesty, he still was.

_"I thought—" Flicking her hair out of her eyes, she advanced towards him, making sure to release the tight grasp he suddenly had on his tool box. "—that you could make the most out of this visit."_

_The housewife leaned in on her tiptoes, pressing light hands against his broad shoulders. Her lips were now inches away from his own. "What do you say, John? You and me again. Because I missed you and I'm sure you—"_

_Cut off in an instant, he grabbed her by the small of her back and lifted her up. As she wrapped her legs around his waist, their lips met in a rough, passionate clinch and he blindly staggered over to the king-size bed waiting for them._

She shot up as if she'd been stung. Calling for Elissa to unpack her things, she stormed into the bathroom, almost slamming the door shut behind her. She needed a nice relaxing bath to settle into. More than that, she _needed_ to go back to the dominant Layla El she was required to be to make it on this street.

* * *

Maryse had been in and out of sleep all evening, but when she woke up after what seemed like forever and saw there was sunlight streaming in through the drawn curtains, she knew it was finally time to get up. She felt slightly panicked as she attempted to sit up but a moment later, when Ted suddenly rose from the chair beside her and helped her, something like relief filled her inwardly.

"God, you scared me so much." He leaned forward to place a tender kiss on her lips. "How are you feeling?"

"I could be better." She croaked. After a moment, the blonde signalled to the bedside table. "Could I have some water please?" Had she been sleeping with her mouth open all night or something?

Ted was on hand and foot for her; pouring a glass for her, holding it for her while she drank, fluffing her pillow before she sank back down into it. She would have joked about how they were finally getting back to the olden days where she was treated like a princess had much more pressing matters not been on her mind.

"I know who attacked me. I know who did it."

The millionaire took her hand and said softly, "Are you about to say Mickie James – or The Miz? You wouldn't stop muttering their names last night in your sleep."

"Were you here all night?"

"Where else would I be? You're my wife and if anything happens to you I'm always going to be there to help you through it."

For a moment all she could do was stare at the love of her life. How glad she was to end her affair with Mike because of this man in front of her, and a wise choice it was too; she still remembered Miz' stony expression while he sat in the car and let his little girlfriend attack her. Mickie had been strong, she had to give the former Diva credit for that.

"I know it sounds crazy and you might not believe me, but it's true. I never thought I would see her again but it was _her_ and she attacked me from behind and—"

"I do believe you. I went home this morning and had a quick look at the security tapes from the camera outside of the house. I saw Mickie and there was a glimpse of Mike in the car when they drove off. The police are out looking for them right now."

The French-Canadian woman sank back against her pillow in relief. She'd thought nobody would believe her story – that they would think of her as crazy. After all why would an old rival come back after so many years just to get revenge? Well Mickie James always had a bit of the psychopathic character about her...

"Hey, you're crying." It wasn't until Ted was wiping her tears away that she realised it was true. She was suddenly grateful when he slid into the bed beside her and held her gently against his chest. "The doc says you're going to be just fine. They thought there might have been some abdominal damage after taking those kicks, but you're just in for some heavy bruising."

"What about my face?" She remembered Mickie taking her first shot to the side of her head. "Am I hideous now?"

"Of course you're not." Tilting her head, Maryse saw her daughter at the door, rolling those pretty eyes of hers. "You're Maryse Ouellet, you could never be hideous."

"Did I just hear a compliment come out of your mouth? I'm in shock."

"Well it's a pretty shocking time," said Emily, trying to resist the smirk that wanted to appear on her lips. "We'll be back to our hate-love relationship in no time. In the meanwhile I brought you some magazines in from home – I think some of them are the bridal ones – and your make-up bag. Thought you'd appreciate it."

"I do, honey." Maryse stroked her daughter's cheek as she drew closer and placed the stuff down on the nearest chair. There were times when the housewife wondered why she'd become a mother in the first place when it clearly didn't suit her, but now was not one of those times. "I bet you're happy your Dad took you out of school for this."

"But I didn't." Ted suddenly caught on. "Emily, didn't I drive you to school myself this morning?"

"You can't expect me to concentrate on Trigonometry when my poor mother is in the hospital – two hours of sitting in Math just doesn't seem the right place for me to be, don't you agree?"

He stared at her for a moment before laughing and turning back to his wife. "You know she gets that innocent look from you right?"

"What innocent look?" They both chirped back at him.

The wrestler only shook his head at them. When Emily disappeared to the cafeteria to get herself some lunch, Ted grew more serious. "I'm really glad something worse didn't happen to you. You had me so worried when I found you out there—"

"Hey," interrupted Maryse, stroking a manicured nail down his cheek. Now it was her turn to do some reassuring. "I'm here, I'm alive and I will be just fine. And so will we." It was spoken as a statement rather than the question she was used to asking.

He placed a soft kiss on her lips. "Of course we will. I'll never doubt that again."

* * *

There was utter silence in the house as John Cena said his goodbyes, hung up his iPhone and placed it down on the kitchen counter in front of him. The only sound to fill his ears now was the ticking clock to his right, but he was barely focused on it as he stared – as though in a daydream – at the microwave ahead.

Had that phone call really happened or was it all in his imagination? Had his wildest dream really just come true?

"_...Mr. Cena, we would like you to come out for a tryout..."_

Slowly, he stood to his feet and placed his hands on his hips. He cleared his throat – the sound was alien to his ears, as if suddenly the most normal of things was strange to him now.

"_... and we'll see where it goes from there on..."_

John took a fresh bottle of water out of the fridge and gulped down its contents all in one go. Then he yelled out happily as he paced around the kitchen, on the brink of doing an odd little dance. He was happy no-one was in the house to share this moment with him; Alex was at the hospital on a day shift for once, while The Miz was nowhere to be found, and had been that way since last night when he rushed out in a hurry.

"_...we were very impressed with the tape you sent in..."_

He stopped for a moment as he recalled that part of the conversation. Due to being so anxious and excited at the time, he hadn't thought it through properly, but of course he hadn't sent in a tape of himself. He'd done it before years ago and gotten no response from it, and the one they mentioned now was certainly not the one he'd posted.

_Layla._ The thought was sudden but he instantly knew he'd stumbled on the right answer. After setting his water down, he ran a hand through his spiky head of hair. Had she done this for him when she was on the Raw trip with Tiffany? _What an amazing woman. _He had a tryout with world wrestling entertainment later on this week and it was all down to her – _all of it._

Not particularly sure of what he was doing, John headed out of the front door and across the lane towards her house. He knew William wasn't in – the man had left a few hours ago for a signing over at the wrestling centre and was due to be there for another three at least. He knocked on the door eagerly and waited for an answer as patiently as he could.

"John?" Layla looked taken aback to open the door to her ex-boyfriend. She looked even more surprised when he stepped inside uninvited, closed the door and lifted her into his arms, her legs wrapping around his waist, to kiss her. "John... what's going on?" She giggled in-between heated kisses. "What's all this about?"

"You just saved my life." He answered simply.

"What are you talking about?" He kissed her again – hard and gentle and passionate all at once. She held him in place for a moment longer, savouring the comfort of it, before pulling away and staring into those familiar blue eyes of his. "What is this about?"

"You sent in a tape of me. I just got a call to go in for a tryout – this could be the start of something amazing for me and it's all down to you."

A grin spread across her face and she squealed in delight. "John, that's amazing! This is it – your big break!" He picked her up again and spun her around and she laughed, but mainly to herself. This was a scene she would have liked to have had years ago and now was finally getting it. "I know this is going to be wonderful for you."

John pushed her gently against the wall behind her and brushed away the hair that clung to her face before stroking her cheek. "God, I knew I could never get away from you." He spoke in a soft tone of voice. "And this time I don't want to."

She leaned into his touch. It was nice to have this comfort again and to feel a love so pure that it was hard for anyone to ignore. She and John might have broken up a long time ago but those raw feelings hadn't gone away; they never would. His lips had barely touched hers when her cell phone rang from the living room. He urged her to ignore it but she knew it could be important, giggling while pressing a finger against his lips to stop him, settling for a smile when he kissed it.

Her smile disappeared when she heard Tiffany's frantic voice on the other end of the line. _"Eve just rung me and I wasn't sure if you got the same call but I figured I'd let you know anyway. Maryse is in the hospital – she was attacked last night. Drew's driving me to the hospital right now. Do you want a ride too?"_

"Oh my God, I can't believe it. Yeah, I'll be out in a second." She hung up with her heart racing. How hadn't she known about Maryse earlier?

Hurriedly explaining everything to John, she ushered him out of the door, their happy moment together forgotten about for the meanwhile as she dealt with the new dilemma in her life. She was in the back of Drew's car and driving away from Avidian Lane in a matter of moments.

Once he was back in the safety of his house, John leaned against the front door and stared ahead. Now he had a private moment to himself he could think properly. He'd just lost himself to Layla out there because of his new paradise world, but did he regret it? _Hell no._ He thought to himself.

He allowed a smirk to creep onto his lips as he worked his way upstairs and into his room to pack for a flight he had yet to book. Finally his life was going somewhere and he knew exactly what and _who_ he wanted out of it.

* * *

So there's the next chapter. Please review. Only four more chapters to go until this story is finished...

_Coming up: It's make or break time for Drew and Tiffany, while Eve has an apology to make._


	28. Think About It

**The Good Life**

_AN._ **3** more chapters to go...  
Enjoy this one! :)

* * *

_Chapter Twenty-Eight – Think About It_

* * *

Sometimes there was no deterring a determined Eve Torres; she stuck to her guns and there wasn't anything anyone could say to persuade her otherwise. Perhaps this was the reason Maryse woke up the next morning in hospital and saw Eve still with her despite having told her to go home and sleeping in the chair at her bedside.

The housewife initially rolled her eyes, but after a moment, while helping herself out of bed, she had to smile. There was a reason she and the brunette were best friends on the street – they were always there for one another, even if the other didn't want them to be.

"Hey, you should be careful." Alex had been shrugging on his jacket and getting ready to leave after his night shift when he saw the woman get up. He ignored her scowl as he lent her a helping hand. "I know you love being independent but there's a reason you're here under observation until tomorrow."

"I ache but I'm okay. All I want is to go to the bathroom and have a slow walk around. I hate that bed and anyway, you were the one who suggested gentle exercise."

"I know but—"

"I think it's her you have to look after right now, Alex."

He turned in Eve's direction. The brunette, unaware she was being watched while she slept, let out an irritated groan as she shuffled around in her seat. It was clear to see that she hadn't slept well at all. Alex smiled softly; just the sight of her usually immaculate – but now ruffled – hair was enough to lure him under her spell once again.

"Try not to fall in love too much while I'm gone. I know she's in love with you and everything but still—"

"What? Did she tell you that?"

Feeling mischievous in that moment, Maryse merely gave a wave before disappearing out of the room and into the hallways of the corridor. A smile touched her lips as she was granted her alone time. Eve had helped her when her affair with Mike was revealed to the entire street, and while she was cautious of Alex for his friendship with the guy, she knew he was head over heels for her best friend and vice-versa. She wanted to help them find their way to each other.

Eve hadn't been sleeping heavily. The mere sound of a chart being picked up, paper being folded and the click of a pen had her fluttering her eyelids open. Her first thought was that the weather was beautiful this morning, but she wished the sun wasn't streaming in through the windows at that exact moment. Her second thought was that Maryse was missing and it sparked her curiosity to where exactly the French-Canadian woman had disappeared to.

"You're awake."

Her third thought was that she was now alone in a room with one of the hospital's doctors, and that this particular doctor was one she knew. Slightly embarrassed to be caught only half-awake, the Latina tried to gather her wits together while re-arranging herself into a sitting position in the chair. "Looks like it." She said in response. Clearly those wits hadn't been found just yet.

"Have you been here all night?"

"Well yeah, I felt like I had to be. Is that a problem?"

"No." He chuckled as he put the chart back in its place. Leaning against the bed coolly, he folded his arms across his chest. "Why do you always have to pick a fight with me?"

"I don't. It just sounded like you were accusing me of something."

"Well I wasn't. Not everything I say is meant to make you feel bad you know." He fought the desire to roll his eyes. "There's no need to always have this wall up around you when I'm with you."

"You don't know what you're talking about." Except he did and she knew this as she quickly stood to her feet, ignoring the pins and needles that suddenly attacked her legs, to check the time and head to the parking lot to retrieve her car and drive home. She had a class to teach in a couple of hours that she needed to prepare for.

It was just as she was about to disappear that he intentionally reeled her back in with one powerful sentence. "I'm not dating Carly."

Careful to keep her expression neutral, she turned to him. "Who's Carly?" But she had a feeling she already knew who he was referring to.

"The blonde girl you saw me with at the takeout place. In case you were wondering I'm not seeing her. She's just a friend."

"And why would you think I care?"

"Because _you _are the one who asked _me_ if I was dating her, remember, and then you didn't give me time to answer. You were too busy being jealous."

"I was not being jealous." She insisted.

Of course she knew she had been jealous of Alex's date – only she couldn't admit it in front of him now due to her pride. When he'd followed her out the other night and told her to take a look in the mirror she'd taken those words to heart and tried to evaluate what he meant. It came to her later that evening; _she_ was being stubborn and denying the truth, and he was simply working around that fact.

"Whatever. Whether you were jealous or not you have the right to know that we're not dating. I asked her out actually to try and get over you, to try and block out the image of you and Cena together," he paused, digesting her softened expression, "but she laughed at me and told me that it was obvious what I was doing. She treated me to a take-out to take my mind off of you, and that's when we ran into each other. So there you have it – the whole truth and nothing but the truth."

It cheered her up a great deal to hear this, she soon realised. Feeling guilty, she struck up the courage to reply. "Well if we're telling the truth then you should know my date with John didn't go that well. Okay it did but only because we both realised we're better off as friends. We're not going to go out on dates or anything like that anymore."

He nodded slowly. Of course inwardly he was more than satisfied, but he wasn't going to reveal that to her now. "He didn't tell me that."

"Now you know. I'm sorry for... well, I'm just sorry." She shrugged. This silence was odd – as if something else needed to be said between them. _Oh well, whatever it is it can wait. _"I should probably go home."

Feeling somewhat like the conversation was incomplete, Alex replied, "I should probably do the same. I need to clear up Mike's room and start putting in advertisements for a new roommate."

But as they made to leave in awkward silence together, Ted suddenly appeared in front of them, looking particularly relieved to see them both there. "Where's Maryse?"

"She went for a quick walk." The doctor supplied. "Why – what's up?"

A smile suddenly played on his handsome features as he shifted his gaze in-between him and Eve, though he primarily focused on the latter for what he was about to say next. "I have an idea – a surprise for Maryse – and I need your help with it..."

* * *

Drew was back. This much Tiffany McIntyre knew to be true as she heard the sound of a car engine being cut from the driveway, prompting her to rush over to the window to see it for herself. Her eyes followed the figure of her husband when he stepped out of the vehicle and slammed the door behind him, before getting the shopping out from the back seat and heading towards the front door.

Though she'd felt nervous around him before—the first time they met in the empty ring, their first, second _and _third date, and on their wedding day—this was a different kind of nervous. It was as though they were starting all over again in their relationship, only _she_ was pulling the strings this time around.

He was surprised to see her waiting for him when he stepped through the front door. Shutting it with his foot, the Scottish wrestler looked concerned. "Is everything alright? Are the babies okay?" He glanced down to her rounded stomach; she looked positively glowing and perhaps at the most beautiful he'd ever seen her. God, she was perfect.

"The babies are fine, although one of them likes to keep kicking me. We're going to be in trouble with that one." Her smile flickered into something more serious. He gestured that he needed to put their groceries away and she followed him into the kitchen to watch him do that. "I do want to talk to you, Drew. It's about us."

He wasn't sure he was ready for this. Setting the bags down on the counter, he folded his arms across his chest and fidgeted – much like he had in their first encounter together. Could she tell this time that he was uncomfortable too?

Apparently so as she offered another soft smile in his direction. "Relax, Drew. It's about time this happened." Unsure where to start, the blonde decided merely to jump into it. "While I was away on the Raw tour visiting Evan and everyone else, I had a lot of time to myself to think things over and work out what I wanted to happen between us."

Drew's gaze grew more serious than she'd ever seen it before. "And?" He felt like he was waiting with bated breath for her answer.

"And at first I thought maybe it was easier that we had some time apart so I could sort my feelings out... but that's not possible. You see, I'm in love with you and there's a strong chance I'm always going to be, and I can't imagine my life without you in it. You made a stupid mistake, yes, but we're going to be starting a _family_ together in a matter of months. It's time to put the past where it belongs and leave it there."

"You mean it?"

"I wouldn't say it if I didn't." Tiffany placed her hands on her swollen stomach. "I'm not just doing this for them – I'm doing it for me too."

"I love you so much. You have no idea how much I love you... and I'll never make a mistake like that again. I'll be better than that."

She barely had time to respond before he swooped in and captured her lips in a loving kiss. Savouring the moment she'd wished to have with him for a while now, she pressed a hand against his warm cheek and kissed him back. There were two kicking babies in-between them – the sensation of it against him making Drew laugh in happiness – and ice-cream that was more than likely melting in its container while it waited to be put away, but neither cared.

The McIntyre household was a united family once again and it felt incredible.

* * *

Layla was in the middle of doing her usual spot of sunbathing in a purple figure-fitting bikini when a sight across the road made her sit up, raise her sunglasses from her eyes to her head and cause her to wonder what was going on. Though she was aware William was sitting in the kitchen on his laptop and could easily see what she was doing, the housewife took the risk and stood up to pad across to the scene.

"Are you going somewhere?"

After closing the trunk of his car, John faced her. "My tryout is tomorrow. I'm catching a flight out of here in a few hours – I'm being put up in a hotel for the night and everything." He grinned at her, resisting the urge to lose himself to the image of her in that teeny-tiny bikini she was wearing. Those curves of hers were definitely enticing to his blue eyes and daring to be implored.

She rested a hand on his toned shoulder. "That's amazing. I still can't believe this is happening. I'm proud of you, John."

"Well it wouldn't have been possible if it wasn't for you handing in that tape when you went away on the tour, so thank you." He was very aware that just her touch – no matter how light – was driving him crazy. If only he could do something about it in public. Forcing himself to move on, he reminded himself that he had something else to say to her. "I have an idea."

"An idea?" She echoed.

"It involves you and me. It's pretty heavy but it's what I want and deep down, I think it's what you want too." This was more nerve-wracking than he expected it to be.

The British woman rested her hands by her side again. "I'm confused. What are you talking about?"

"Listen Layla," he started, desperate to take her hand but knowing it was impossible to do so on this street. If there was one thing he'd learnt about Avidian Lane it was that there were eyes and ears posted everywhere. This piece of gossip would travel fast. "I know you're not happy with him and you never were. I remember what you told me: that you got swept up in this world and that's the reason you left me behind."

Uneasily, she remembered their moment in the locker room back at the wrestling centre. He'd kissed her passionately and walked away, and she'd felt like a part of her had disappeared altogether. It had been a heartbreaking moment for her, but one filled with clarification all the same. John Cena was and always would be the love of her life.

"I remember that too." She spoke softly.

Holding her stare, he continued. "So come with me." He spoke almost as softly as she had just done.

Layla found herself shocked at those four words. "What do you mean, John?"

"I mean exactly what I said. You and I belong together, I know that now, and this could be your chance to escape from it all. This could be our second chance. If this tryout goes well I'll be going on the road with WWE and I'm sure there's a place for you there too. We could have it all again."

"But my friends... but William..."

"Can be forgotten. You don't love him. I know you love having your friends around you but just think about _us._ Please Lay, just think about us."

In that moment she did. She thought of all the fantasies she'd suppressed to the back of her mind while settling into married life on the lane with William Regal; of her and John strutting down that ramp together in front of a live crowd, either the perfect heel or face couple, and of John winning a prestigious championship belt while she watched on backstage, tears in her eyes while her man finally got to live his dream.

After these thoughts came to mind, Layla thought of her own dreams – of winning the Diva's Championship and living out her wrestling dream once again. It definitely beat out the lifestyle she had now; wrestling and travelling on the road was hardly glamorous, but it suited her just fine. Better than she knew it did at the time.

"I don't know..." But somewhere in her mind, she figured out that she already knew what she wanted to do after all.

"Think about it." John shook himself out of the emotionally charged moment when he spotted William on the other side of the road. He was looking quizzically at them from the front porch and wondering what was going on. "I have to go."

Only after waiting until he'd backed out of the driveway and disappeared did Layla make her way back to her own house. When William asked her what they'd been talking about, she'd given a nonchalant shrug and told him it was nothing important – just idle chit-chat. Inwardly, her heart was racing. For the first time in a long time, Layla El had a very important decision to make.

* * *

So there's the next chapter. Please review :)  
And for the person who asked, yes, I came up with Avidian Lane by spelling Diva backwards :P

_Coming up: Ted's surprise for Maryse has everyone in busy mode on Avidian Lane._


	29. The Time Is Now

**The Good Life**

_AN._ **2** more chapters to go...

* * *

_Chapter Twenty-Nine – The Time Is Now_

* * *

Maryse's eyes were closed as she was driven into Avidian Lane the next morning. Initially she thought she might run a trained eye over the houses from the passenger's seat – a quick moment to try and ease herself back into the role of Queen on the street – but she was simply too tired to focus right now.

She was also barely aware when Ted came to a stop, so she was definitely surprised when a sharp rap at her window had her jolting upright and awake. Eve and Tiffany were smiling down at her through the glass window with their arms full of goodies; clearly they were the welcome home parade. Once out of the car and onto her feet, she gave them a warm smile. "All of this isn't necessary. I'm only coming home from the hospital..."

"Oh please, we all know how much you love getting pampered and spoiled."

"Yeah we do," added Ted with a knowing smirk on his face as he came around from the driver's seat to support his wife.

Both ladies laughed and Tiffany continued with her mini-speech. "So we thought what better way to welcome you back than by buying your favourite cosmetics and jewellery. We do love you, Maryse—"

"Even if you are a pain in the ass sometimes, Frenchie." Eve felt it essential to add.

"And we're glad you're okay. Layla is too, even if we have no idea where she is right now."

Still feeling as though she was one more nap away from getting all of her strength back, the French-Canadian housewife rested a hand on her pregnant friend's shoulder. "It means a lot, girls. I'm lucky to have you in my life."

"I think you're lucky that you have a strong husband who's about to carry you upstairs to bed." Maryse's eyes flickered over to her husband, somewhat surprised, while Tiffany continued. "In the state I am now, Drew would break his back if he tried to do that with me."

"Come on then." Effortlessly, the Millionaire lifted his frail other half into his arms and carried her towards the front door. Emily was leaning against the open door in her nonchalant young adolescent way. "Go and help Eve and Tiff bring in the goodie baskets."

"But I've just painted my nails, Dad."

"And this is the second day in a row I've let you stay off school. Now go."

Maryse thought it odd that her tomboy daughter was so concerned with newly-painted nails – that they were even painted at all – but didn't bother to ask. She felt comfortable enough in Ted's arms and besides, she was aware Emily had broken up with Tyler to be with Logan. Maybe that was reason enough for the change in girly attitude.

As she was being carried it occurred to her that she could hear noises coming from somewhere. The back yard, maybe? "What's the noise?" She asked. Her head almost – but not quite – bumped against Ted's chest while they ascended the stairs.

"I hired some gardeners." He only partially lied to her. "They're fixing things up but will be out of your hair soon. You just focus on getting some rest."

She found this easy to do. As soon as she was lowered onto the bed and her head hit the pillow, it was some feat not to drift off straightaway. Maryse was vaguely aware that her husband was saying something about a surprise in store for her when she woke up, but it might as well have been a low whisper as she was already shutting down.

Instants later, she was asleep.

* * *

It was unorganised chaos inside of Eve's house – and particularly in the living room – where it had undergone a big change. Dresses were strewn over the television screen; a make-up station was set up on the coffee table; three bunches of gorgeous flowers were placed neatly across the couch. It was definitely a different atmosphere than either she or Logan was used to.

The teenage boy wrinkled his nose at the smell of the flowers as he trundled downstairs. His bottom half was covered in a smart trouser suit and his top half in his scruffiest top. "It's too girly in here." He commented to his mother and Tiffany, who were excitedly choosing hairstyles for tonight's event from a catalogue.

The brunette shook her head at him. "There's always something to complain about with you. Be thankful I gave you the day off school for this."

"Yeah about that... I can't find my tie. Do I really have to wear it?"

"Of course you do, it makes you look smart. Don't you want Emily to find her new boyfriend handsome?"

At his mother's grin, Logan grew embarrassed. How much of a mistake had it been to return home from the basketball courts that one evening after his first kiss with Emily and – having been too excited to stop himself – spill the beans to his mother? Now, he hoped he wasn't blushing. _That _would be lame. "You're the worst, Mom."

"Come on. Let's go find your tie." Eve gave him a playful tap to usher him upstairs. "Maybe you can tell me about how you finally got the girl, such a classic love story, while we're looking."

Tiffany was left laughing to herself as she turned back to the mirror. The blonde allowed for a moment of serious thought; she loved the smile currently adorning her lips, as it was an expression she'd missed having on her face.

"Sorry I'm late!" Layla burst through the door with her hair up in curlers, her face unusually free of make-up.

"Eve and I were wondering where you were. You missed Maryse's homecoming."

"Well I'll see her tonight so that's not a problem. Have you got the dresses?"

The blonde pointed towards the television. "Over there. Aren't they stunning?"

The British woman agreed silently after sauntering over and running a hand over the soft cream designs. A light smile pressing on her lips, she turned back around to say, "I can't believe how ridiculous today has been... how sudden things can change..."

"You're telling me," said Tiffany. Her stronger-than-ever marriage to Drew McIntyre was the thought that crossed her mind in that instant.

"So how long do we have?"

"Let's see, right now it's... almost 11:30. We have until six to get ready and make our way over there."

"Oh, this is just so exciting!"

"You act like nothing exciting happens on this street. Have you forgotten where we live? There are twists and turns at every corner."

Only a knowing look was given. "That's true. So, where's Eve? Upstairs?"

"Helping out Logan. She'll be back down soon—"

As if on cue, the Latina hurried downstairs, her heels click-clacking across the wood beneath her feet while she went. "That boy will be the death of me. Oh hey Lay, when did you get here?"

"About two minutes ago. Sorry I'm late by the way, but I'll use the next few hours to make sure we're all looking amazing."

"Sounds like a plan to me. So are we ready for a full day of pampering and getting ready?" When the others murmured their agreement, Eve went into the kitchen to turn on the CD player on her windowsill. When she returned to the living room the faint sound of _Britney Spears _was playing for the three. "Then let's make ourselves beautiful, ladies!"

* * *

"_If I said my heart was beating loud... if we could escape the crowd somehow..."_

Alex lifted his head from his pillow in what had once been a comfortable sleeping position and struggled to open his eyes. It took him a couple of minutes to get it together and realise what day it was and whether it was morning or afternoon. _Arrived home from the night shift three hours ago... got in and slept... haven't had enough sleep..._

"_If I said I want your body now, would you hold it against me?"_

"_Britney Spears_... really?" If he wasn't so tired, Alex might have rolled his eyes. Instead he shoved the covers back and got up to head downstairs and into the kitchen for a glass of water.

Maybe it was a good thing his next door neighbour had woke him with a bit of loud music. He would have to be up in a couple of hours anyway. He would be making his way over to Ted's before tonight's big event to get ready with the guy. It was strange when he thought about it. They didn't know each other that well, but he had a feeling it would be easy to bond with the wrestler. After what his "friend" The Miz had done to him, he was simply grateful he was getting a chance to make amends on his behalf.

Soon enough, he was drawn to the window and this time he did roll his eyes. Eve's kitchen window was wide open and on the windowsill was the device playing the awful music. Maybe if he had a rock or something – no, something softer which would cause less damage – he would be able to get a perfect shot on the damn thing and stop it from working.

But of course he wouldn't do it – not now that he and Eve were finally on speaking terms again. It had been a tough journey to get to where they were now... her rejecting him, her going out with Cena, him asking out Carly... and he didn't want to lose it over a stupid argument. _God knows we could battle it out over the most stupid things._ After a moment of contemplation, he smiled to himself. They were definitely an explosive pair.

"Anyone in? The door's open." He made it out into the hallway in time to see Ted casually walk in with a black suit bag draped over his right arm. A friendly smile was on his lips. "Hey you're in. I thought you'd be asleep. I was just going to leave this here for you."

"I would be sleeping," said the doctor-in-training as he took the empty bag and put it over the back of the couch, "but unless you're deaf and can't hear the music playing next door to me, there's my reason for it."

"I think the whole street can hear it. I love Eve but the woman's always been the loud one on the street." Ted chuckled. "I think it's contagious... either that or she got it from Maryse, because when those ladies get together it's a good idea to get out of the house as soon as you can."

Alex laughed. "I'll make a note of that."

"Anyway I was just dropping this off. Make it round to mine for about five?" After a moment, the wrestler continued. "Is it weird for me to be nervous? I shouldn't be... right?"

"I think it's a good idea to be nervous. It's a sign you're doing the right thing."

"Sage advice. I'll see you later." Nearly on his way out, Ted seemed to remember something and turned back to voice his concerns. "Alex? I'm not suggesting anything in particular, but tonight might be the perfect time to tell someone how you feel." Then the door was shut and he was gone.

Left alone, he traipsed back upstairs and into his wardrobe to get out the one suit he owned. When it was spread across his messy bed he took a moment to simply stare at it and lose himself in a daydream – one where he thought about all the possibilities that could come out of tonight.

Alex smiled. Maybe it would be his lucky night.

* * *

Her eyes fluttering open quite suddenly at the sound of Emily's voice in her ear, Maryse's first glimpse was of a stunning white dress being held up before her. Something about it reminded her of the wedding dress she had wanted her designer to make for her, but this one was much more simple... much more elegant... and absolutely _perfect._ Still mesmerized, she sat up in bed and clasped her hands together. "It's beautiful."

"And you will be too once you're in it." Her daughter grinned at her.

It was then that the blonde noticed Emily's appearance. Much unlike her normal attire, the teenager was dressed in a black ponte dress, with a thin gold belt cinching it in at her waist and the same colour heels to match. With her make-up done perfectly along with her nails, she finally looked like the mini-me Maryse always wanted to have.

"What's going on, Emily?"

"Dad told you he had a surprise for you, but here's the hitch: we were all in on it. Now, my instructions are plain and simple and I want you to follow them _precisely._ Go and take a shower, get dressed in this and then we're going to go into my room to get your make-up done. Don't worry, not by me—" She added hastily. "We have a make-up artist for that."

The housewife was weak in her argument that she hadn't had enough sleep, as after checking the clock on her bedside table and finding it to be just after five-thirty, she realised she'd been asleep for at least six or seven hours. After her feet touched down on the fluffy rug and she made her way into the en-suite bathroom for a shower, she felt awake enough to start to wonder what was in store with her.

An odd collection of racing butterflies in her stomach, a very pleasant feeling to have after all this time, attacked her when she re-emerged fifteen minutes later. She changed gingerly into the sweetheart dress and took her hair out of the loose bun she'd put it into earlier as not to get it wet. Her blonde waves fell over her bare shoulders and when she looked in the mirror, Emily staring over her right shoulder, she knew it was the best she'd looked in a long time.

Feeling like a princess, Maryse was whisked into her daughter's tidied up room for her make-up to be done by a professional. Now more than exited, she had no choice but to wait – totally unmoving so her mascara wasn't smudged – until it was time to go downstairs.

"Emily, are you going to tell me what's going on now or do I have to guess? And where's your father?"

The answer to her second question came just moments later. Emily advised her mother to wait in her spot and then rushed forwards to open the patio doors with a flourish. When the thin drapes were pushed aside, Maryse saw her husband waiting for her. In fact, she saw everyone waiting for her... _Eve, Layla, Tiffany, Alex... _and all staring at her.

Other details soon caught her eye. The long piece of elegant white silk that led to Ted, who stood ahead with his hands folded in front of him, his eyes sparkling. Were those tears in his eyes? She saw the seats set up on either side of the path with the guests awaiting her presence; the flower petals scattered across the floor; the soft music playing in the background; her girlfriends lined up as if in the pose of bridesmaids, just as she imagined them to be on her wedding day. If she didn't know any better...

Turning, unable to speak and gripped with emotion, Emily did the rest of the talking for her. "So Mom, are you ready?" She held out a hand for the mute woman to take. Once it was firmly grasped, she led the shaking housewife out into the spotlight. "Maryse Ouellet, welcome to your second wedding."

* * *

So there's the next chapter. Please review :)

_Coming up: Maryse gets her happy ending, but is it time for another housewife to get hers?_


	30. A New Start

**The Good Life**

_AN._ Here it is... the penultimate chapter...

* * *

_Chapter Thirty – A New Start_

* * *

The ceremony itself was beautiful. The vows were renewed and said aloud in front of close friends and there were tears to be shed at that. Even Emily misted over, but then stopped herself when she noticed Logan grinning at her and hit him on the shoulder. He only laughed and put his arm around her to pull her closer.

Twenty minutes later, Maryse had slipped out of her heels and was sat at poolside; her feet glided lazily through the heated water. She watched with intrigued eyes as others milled before her.

Eve was by the bar helping herself to another delicious cocktail and Drew and Tiffany were on the dance-floor together. A smile picked up on her features when she saw the pregnant blonde tilt her head up and let out an infectious laugh as her husband attempted to dance energetically to the music.

Then there was her own family. Ted had arrived just in time to take an alcoholic beverage away from their daughter, who sulked and moved away from the bar to find her new boyfriend. She was still blown away by how handsome... how _sexy_... Ted looked tonight in his tux. In fact, she was blown away by everything this evening.

"Some surprise huh?" Layla came up behind her. Sitting down, she mimicked her friend's position. "Did you like it?"

"Like it? I'm not sure I'm done crying yet." The blonde sniffed to prove her point. It was hard to believe that just a couple of months ago she felt down in the dumps and worthless.

"Ted wasn't sure how you would react but when he shared his plan with Eve and Alex, they urged him on."

"I'm glad. Everything is absolutely perfect."

It certainly was. Today would be a day she would never forget. Had she really wanted a huge wedding, an over-the-top dress and a few hundred guests she didn't know witnessing her special day? It all sounded like a nightmare to her now.

Barely audible sniffs from beside her brought her focus back onto her friend. "Aww Lay, sweetheart," she laughed when she noticed her state, "Are you alright?"

"Don't mind me – it's been an emotional day." The British woman raised a dismissive hand and then used the back of it to wipe away the last of her tears. "Haven't there been some great memories on this street between the four of us?"

"The best. Here's to many more." Layla only smiled, but just when Maryse was about to add something, her name was called through a microphone. "Is that Emily I can hear?"

It was. "Mom, where are you?" The young blonde was stood on a dance-floor in the back yard that had only just been set up earlier this afternoon and a bright spotlight was shining on her as she spoke. "It's time for your first dance as husband and wife... er, again."

"Looks like that's your cue. Have fun honey, I love you."

Maryse squeezed her hand lightly before getting up and walking her way into being the centre of attention once more. A round of applause broke out when Ted offered his hand to her and died down when a romantic love song began to play. She curled in close to him as they swayed; the bright light honed in on them in the dark of the night.

"This has to be the quietest you've ever been." Her husband whispered softly in her ear while other residents on the street watched on.

"Can you blame me for being so speechless? I can't believe you went to all this trouble for you."

"It's something I should have done a long time ago. You deserve to be treated this way, sweetheart, and for the rest of our lives I plan on showing you that."

The housewife tipped back from the embrace, but only to place a tender kiss on her husband's responsive lips. There was another round of applause for that and she laughed, slightly embarrassed despite her tendency to enjoy the attention, before melting back into the moment. For those two minutes in time she knew she would hold _this_ moment in her memory for the rest of her life. Nothing would replace this feeling of happiness, comfort and security.

Finally, _Lady GaGa_ burst out onto the speakers and Ted and Maryse pulled away from one another to signal it was time for others to join the dance-floor. Drifting over to the side and to their table, she perched on his lap and they sat quietly together, fingers entwined, to soak in the atmosphere.

* * *

"He looks so lovestruck on the dance-floor with her. Why didn't I bring my camera? Do you think anyone will notice if I leave for a couple of minutes to go and get it? What a beautiful moment for him!"

Tiffany didn't need to look behind her to know Eve was gushing over Logan's sudden romance with Ted and Maryse's daughter, Emily. Besides that, the blonde knew she didn't even have the energy to sit up from her slumped position and take in the very same sight – the dance with Drew had taken it out of her, and the twins demanded rest. She was all too happy to oblige.

"You don't need a camera. There's a professional photographer here, so if you _really_ want to embarrass him, you can always ask for pictures to be taken."

"Good idea." The Latina nodded. Halfway through a sip of her drink, she caught her friend's knowing expression. "Oh right... you're trying to tell me I'm interfering too much and to back off."

"I know you're excited for him and it's only because you love him so much, but think about yourself. You're here to have fun too!"

"Oh believe me I am. These drinks are gorgeous. It sucks that you can't have any."

The blonde giggled. "I'm actually okay with that... and here comes my husband to take me home. I hate to be the party pooper but I'm worn out and an early night sounds perfect."

"Okay, take care. I'll see you tomorrow."

Drew greeted both ladies with a charming smile and then helped his wife to his feet, before taking her hand and leading her out of the party. Eve angled her head to the side and watched with a light smile on her face. For some reason she'd thought the couple were having some marital issues; it was nice to know this wasn't the case. A happy ending for everyone...

"Eve Torres sitting down when there's terrible music blasting through the speakers that she can dance to? I'm shocked."

As Alex Riley appeared in her line of sight wearing a familiar smile, she couldn't help but return it. For some entirely stupid reason her heart had even started beating that little bit faster. "Did you hear me playing _Britney Spears_ earlier on this morning while the girls' and I got ready?"

"There was no way of ignoring it." He took the seat opposite her. "Did you know that I had only just come in from work three hours beforehand? Are we playing our little game again?"

"Our little game?" She repeated. Now Eve was amused.

"You know how it is. We get under each other's skin and try to get the better of each other—"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"No, of course you don't." He looked down for a brief moment and laughed to himself. In the meanwhile, she began to toy with the straw in her drink; why she was she feeling nervous all of a sudden? "So," his gaze was back on her, "considering we don't have a little game, let's just say we're friends."

"Friends..." She tested it out on her tongue. It was oddly disappointing.

"So as your friend, maybe I can persuade you to dance?"

In past times she might have laughed at him or flat-out refused, but something inside her – probably the alcoholic drinks – told her to accept his offer. Holding out her hand for him to take, she allowed herself to be led to the dance-floor. A slow song immediately replaced the upbeat music.

Alex spoke before she could. "This time I did plan it."

Pulled into his embrace, she tried to slow her heart rate. Surely he could hear it pressed against his chest? Over his shoulder, she locked eyes with Maryse; the blonde playfully winked at her in the way only her best friend would. "So you planned this?"

"I told the DJ to play this one next and if you can remember that far back—"

"Oh!" It came to her suddenly. "This is the same song we danced to on our date." Recalling this moment also meant remembering something else. "It's also the same song I broke down to... ranting about my ex-husband..." Uncomfortable, she broke free from him to stare him in the eyes. "Is this some sort of joke to you, Alex?"

As if in a game of tug of war, he pulled her back into him so they were only inches apart. "No." His voice had dropped to a low whisper, making the scene a lot more intimate. "This is a do-over. Last time I told you I saw a spark in you. Guess what? I still do. I still think you're incredible. I also think there's a connection between us that shouldn't be ignored for a second longer."

Mute, she could only listen.

"I am in love with you, Eve, and this time I'm not afraid to admit it. No more games, no more stupid interruptions. Just _us_. I'm asking you not to run away this time – give yourself a chance to love someone again."

Only she had already given herself that chance and she knew it, too, as she stared at him. Hopelessly, Eve shook her head. "Just kiss me, Alex."

So he did. A soft, tender, beautiful first kiss that lingered until he wound her arms around her waist and tugged her closer, never loosening his grip, to make the special moment all the more meaningful. It was only them in this long overdue moment and that was perfectly fine with her.

A slow applause broke out once they were finished and Eve, pleasantly embarrassed, laughed into his shoulder while she hid. "Something tells me we're going to be just fine this time round." The woman mumbled.

Reminiscent of their first date, Alex echoed what her words had been. "I'm going to hold you to that."

* * *

Almost absent-mindedly, Layla lifted her head to glance over at the DiBiase residence. She could hear cheers, claps and wolf-whistling coming from the back yard. A ghost of a smile touched her lips momentarily; no doubt Maryse and Ted were kissing in front of the audience, or another pair was. She wished she could be there to witness it and bask in their happiness too.

She slammed the trunk down and pushed herself back into reality and into what she was doing right now. In the quick two minutes it had taken her to change back at the house—William was away on business and so she'd managed to avoid questions from him—she walked round to the driver's seat in jeans and a simple grey tee.

John Cena looked up at her from behind the wheel. "Ready to go? The flight leaves in an hour so we better go."

"Yeah, I've just got one more thing to do." After pressing a hand on his shoulder, she trailed off the road and onto the sidewalk. It was weird to think this would be the last time she would walk along Avidian Lane.

_It's for the best._ She told herself while trying to ignore the nervous butterflies in her stomach. Unlike previous decisions she'd made, Layla knew this was the right one. She had thought about it long and hard and come up with one solution: it was time for her to move on.

There had been no better night than tonight to leave the street. With all eyes on Maryse and her glorious wedding ceremony, no-one would be batting an eyelash at her and wondering what she was up to. It was a gutsy move, she could admit that, but a move she desired with all her heart. This domestic life wasn't for her anymore. In fact, she wasn't sure it ever had been.

Layla remembered to loosen her grip on the note in her hand as she sidled up Tiffany's pathway. She could still hear the music playing across the road as she slipped it halfway under the mat. Hopefully the note would explain everything to her three friends and they would see why she had to make this decision.

Her walk back to the car was slow. She wanted to take everything in one last time – after all, even if she hadn't enjoyed her time here, there were some fantastic memories to be had as well. It hit her after slipping into the passenger's seat that this was really it. No turning back. She was working on impulse and impulse alone... it felt good.

The man beside her echoed his earlier question. "Ready to go?"

In response to this, she leaned across the gear stick, pressed a hand tenderly against his cheek and brought him in for a kiss. Then she settled back into her seat and looked straight ahead. "I've been ready for a long time, John. This is our second chance and it's going to be..." For a moment words had deserted her. "... _incredible._"

The British woman thought of her statement as a fact. There was no fiction in it whatsoever. Having been so impressed with John Cena's tryout, WWE had offered him a job almost on the spot and it spoke volumes. He was finally going to have his moment in the wrestling spotlight. Layla had also been on the phone and was taking back her coveted position as a WWE Diva on the roster again.

Who knew where they would end up? Maybe as the ultimate power couple – much like Ted and Maryse had been in their day – or playing separate roles. Layla could definitely picture herself as Diva's Champion again... perhaps heading straight back into a title run by feuding with her old friend, Michelle McCool. That would make for an interesting storyline. Either way, she was feeling positive.

When John revved up the engine she sat up straighter in her seat. It was time to go. As he sped away into the night, Layla El didn't look back. In her heart she knew Avidian Lane would always be there with her. It was time for a new adventure.

* * *

One more chapter to go, folks!


	31. Just the Beginning

**The Good Life**

_AN._ Yo! Welcome to the last chapter, guys. Aww :(

* * *

_Chapter Thirty-One – Just the Beginning_

* * *

_Girls,_

_I know this is going to seem out of the blue for you to wake up tomorrow and find this on your doorstep but I knew there was no other alternative. The three of you deserve to know the truth and have me tell it before someone else does. To put it simply... or as simply as I can... I've left the street. I suppose in a way you could say I've run away like a rebellious schoolgirl who dreams of being with her rocker boyfriend and away from the constraints in her life, which I know is a tale Maryse would enjoy. You always were one for the dramatics. Love you really, Frenchie! Anyway... you should probably know that this 'running away' I did wasn't spontaneous... well it was to a point... but it's something I've wanted for a long time. The truth of the matter is I ran away to be the person I want to be again... a WWE Diva. I'm going back to the company. I also ran away to be with the love of my life. He's been the love of my life for a long time, ever since I first met him I knew he was special, and it might shock you when I tell you it's John Cena, our neighbour. (The one you dated for awhile, remember Eve?) I probably should have told you we knew each other before... but you know us housewives, we always have our secrets to hide. But just know this: he's a wonderful man and he helped me realise that the life I've been living isn't for me. I love you girls and I know you'll support me in my decision, and I'll definitely get in touch with all of you when I can to explain my decision in more depth, but please don't forget me. I know I won't forget any of you. Just know that I'm happy and that I want you to be happy. I hope you are._

_Much love, Lay._

_P.S., If Eve hasn't got it together with hot stuff Riley yet, can one of you ladies force her into it please? Mwah! Xo_

Absolute silence. It wasn't until all three were finished reading and looked up from the note to check out the other's reaction that they realised it was the quietest they had ever been as a group. Tiffany, eyebrows still fuddled together in confusion, had another look at the note while Eve and Maryse, perched on the pregnant woman's porch, tried to speak but ended up muttering incoherent thoughts.

Finally, the Latina said something easy to understand. "I can't believe it."

"Neither can I. It was in the back of my mind yesterday that she'd disappeared from my wedding but I thought she had a headache, never... this. And John Cena? Talk about surprising!"

"Tell me about it," said Eve. She folded her arms across her chest. "He failed to mention his secret relationship with Layla while he was at my house on our date."

Despite their early-morning surprise, Maryse couldn't help but let out a titter of laughter. "Sweetie, you only dated him to rub it in Alex's face."

"I did not!"

"Just a little bit."

"No."

"Yes."

"Okay... maybe."

"I knew it." The blonde gave a triumphant smile.

Now happy to step into the conversation, Tiffany passed the note around and shook her head. "This is so weird. I was _just_ talking to her yesterday while we were getting ready for your wedding. She seemed so... normal... like nothing was going to change. Like she wasn't going to be leaving the next night..."

The housewife trailed off. Layla had been her closest friend on the street. The news of her departure from Avidian Lane was somewhat bittersweet. Of course she was happy that her friend was doing this for herself—she knew when Layla had been drunk before she tended to whine about her marital status—and that she finally had a chance to be with someone she actually loved and have her dream career instead of lounging around at home, but she was also upset.

Who would she have late-night margaritas with? Who would she have a giggle with other the phone when she was feeling stressed out and ready to give up? Eve and Maryse were amazing friends and she knew she could count on them, but sometimes it took that special person to truly put the smile back on your face. Layla El Regal was that person for her.

"I knew she wasn't happy with William though... and oh God, what about William? Do you think he knows?" Eve glanced over to the Regal household. "Actually now I think about it, I think he's on the Raw tour. Is he going to have to come home to this? Has she already told him? This is so... exciting!"

"Exciting? Really?"

"Well it's weird and unexpected... but yeah, it's also exciting. I'm happy for her."

"Me too." Maryse decided. She played with the diamond on her ring finger as she spoke. "But only the three of us on the street together now? It's going to take some time to adjust to."

"And then it'll just be the two of you. I'll have the twins to look after." Tiffany rubbed at her stomach. "Totally inappropriate timing, too, because now I need another wee. Maybe we should catch up and speak about this again later on today?"

"Sure, I've got some shopping with Emily to do anyway."

"And I've left Alex in bed." The brunette looked particularly proud of herself. "I better go and check on him."

The ladies disguised the pangs of sadness that hit them as they went their separate ways; Maryse back to her house where her husband and daughter were waiting for her, Eve back to her sleeping boyfriend and Tiffany (unfortunately) back into the bathroom. It hadn't hit them just yet that Layla was gone, and the latter of the three wondered when it would.

* * *

_**3 Months Later**_

* * *

An ear-splitting wail brought Tiffany crashing back into consciousness and as she woke from what could only have been two measly hours of sleep, she wondered which twin was crying for attention now. Had it only been a few months ago that she was excited to become a first-time mother? Sleep-deprived and looking worse for wear, she almost craved for those quiet, naive moments again.

After switching on her lamp, she sat up in bed and glanced over at Drew. He was sleeping peacefully on his back, mouth slightly open as he emitted soft snores. _ Some people have all the luck. _She thought before checking the time. _1:08_, the flashing red digits blinked back at her.

"I'm never going to get a good night's sleep again." She muttered to herself, as right on cue, the other twin started up. "Drew, honey, get up." When he stirred and failed to do just that, she nudged him with her elbow.

"What? What's happening?"

"You need to slip into Daddy role, that's what's happening. You take Aaron and I'll take Abbie." The blonde tiredly dragged the covers off of both of them before standing to her feet. Even as she gave him the orders as usual, she wasn't sure if her eyes were fully open.

It didn't take too long to settle into a routine with the twins once they were born. Twice the trouble was about right, as Aaron and Abigail McIntyre had come screaming into this world two months ago prematurely and hadn't bothered to stop since then. The house certainly wasn't as peaceful as it used to be with the troublesome two filling it up.

Drew almost tripped over his own two feet as he stumbled around, avoiding one toy here and another there. That was another thing about the change in lifestyle – their kids' stuff was everywhere. "Can't I have Abbie?"

"Playing favourites already?"

The Scottish man brushed a hand across his wife's back as he caught up with her on the landing. "No, she's just easier. Daddy's little girl."

Tiffany couldn't deny that her husband and her daughter seemed to have stronger correlation than she and Abbie did. When the babies had first been born, the happy couple had held them in their arms – Aaron in the tired mother's, Abbie in the proud father's – and she had commented, wondering if having one of each meant having favourites. Now she could say that wasn't the case; Abigail might be Daddy's Little Girl, but she was also Mommy's Little Angel and the same could be said for Aaron.

Lights were switched on in the room, babies were picked up and the crying was soon brought down to sniffles instead. Aaron was the first to settle and Abigail soon followed suit. She wasn't surprised at the regularity of this; their little guy had been born first, so she wondered if he was the 'leader' out of the two. Something told her that when they hit their teenage years that wouldn't be the case.

"Do you know what I think when I look at these two?" Drew remarked from the doorway when they were finally settled again and the lights were switched off.

"That you wish they would give you more sleep."

"Apart from that." He laughed. Wrapping his arms around his wife's waist and feeling her lean against him in response, he whispered, "That I can't believe how much happier they've made us. We went through that rough patch and then it got better... we got ready for the twins to come along... and now look at us. A happy – severely tired – family."

Tiffany leaned on her tip-toes to kiss him. "And here's to many more years of it."

* * *

"_Here is your winner and new WWE Champion, Ted DiBiase!" _Justin Roberts exclaimed through the microphone as the wrestler grasped at the gold – newly won from Daniel Bryan – and celebrated with the cheering fans.

Rolling her eyes, Emily reached for the remote and turned off the television, despite Maryse's protest to rewind it _again._ "Watching it five times in a row is my limit. Love you Dad," she turned to Ted, who was cradling his wife in his arms as they lay together on the sofa in the living room, "but it's six in the morning and I have to get ready for school."

The DiBiases watched as Emily traipsed out of the room in her pyjamas, looking suitably tired and feeling it too. That was the last time she allowed her mother to drag her out of bed early in the morning to watch her father win the title on Monday Night Raw. It might only have happened last night, but there was a reason they had the option to record these things.

Maryse angled her head towards Ted and gave him a kiss on the ridge of his jaw. "You did our family proud, baby. We're all so happy for you."

The wrestler had only got in from a late-night flight a couple of hours ago in the middle of the night and so he yawned to show this fact off, before then replying. "It was a great feeling. Layla congratulated me backstage before I left to come back here."

"How is she? She must be feeling great—"

"Considering she won the Diva's Championship a week ago? Yeah, she's buzzing... but I think she's even happier because John's making a splash on Smackdown."

For the first time in a while, Maryse had been paying attention to not just her husband's work on the wrestling shows, but everyone else's too. She had seen John Cena's matches and the responses he got and could certainly see why; the guy was charismatic, something she'd seen in him from their old poker games.

"You must be tired." She told him and they sat up together. "Let's go up to bed."

"Sounds like a fantastic idea."

The French-Canadian woman was leading him up the stairs when the home phone rang. After questioning who it was at this time in the morning, Ted told her to wait there, that he would quickly get rid of whoever it was and they could go up together. Only he appeared to be taking his time as he listened to the other voice on the end of the line.

"Is everything okay?" Maryse asked with some concern as he returned to her.

"That was the police. They've caught Mike and Mickie... after three months, they've caught them. They've got them in holding right now. They need our statements."

The blonde wasn't particularly sure how to react. It was odd to think that just a few months ago she and 'The Miz' were carrying out a love affair while Ted was away, but that it then all came out in the open and everything went to hell. She looked at her life now; she was finally content and safe, but was that feeling about to go away?

As if sensing the way she was feeling, he walked back over to her position on the stairs and took both hands in his. "I don't know what's going to happen now but you've got me. I'm here to support you."

She released her hands from his grip, but only to place them softly on either side of his face to pull him into her. "I know. I love you, baby." And when she kissed him, Maryse knew this was true enough.

Whatever was coming their way, they were a family and they could deal with it together.

* * *

"Good class, girls – I'm really impressed with what I've been seeing! Let's pick it up next week at the same time."

Eve collected her stuff together from the hall and took generous sips out of her water bottle as she allowed herself a few minutes to catch her breath. Today's jiu-jitsu class had been a fun one – there were more new members than she could count and she was genuinely having fun feeling like she was useful around the place.

She used a hand to shield her eyes away from the sun as she made it outside of the building and into the car park. A smile touched her lips before she could stop it when she came across a familiar sight. It was Alex waiting for her as usual, leaning against his car. He didn't see her coming as his attention was on his phone, but certainly knew she was there when she tilted his head up and left a lingering kiss on his lips.

"I keep telling you that you don't have to come and pick me up after class," said the brunette with a smile, "but here you are as always. You must be exhausted. Didn't you just work the night shift at the hospital?"

"Yeah but now I get to go home and crawl into bed with you, which is much comfier than mine by the way."

He should know. Ever since they'd started up their relationship on the night of Ted and Maryse's wedding, Alex had spent a considerable amount of his time over at the Torres place of residence. Logan was never surprised when he came down in the morning to join him at the kitchen table for breakfast, and in return Alex was never surprised when Logan disturbed them – grimacing all the while – to ask if he was actually going to get any dinner that evening. They were practically living together now.

Usually there was nothing she loved more than to slip into bed with her boyfriend, especially if she wasn't tired and she got to watch him sleep, but this morning she had plans. "The girls' are coming over in an hour to hang out for a bit. Poor Tiff needs a break from the twins and Maryse – no doubt – wants to brag about Ted's win."

"You girls and your gossip, I'll never understand it." He shook his head before opening the car door for her. "Well if that's the case then we have little time to waste. Did you say an hour?"

Eve smirked as she slipped into the passenger's seat. As she checked her phone for messages, she couldn't help but let that same smirk settle into another smile. She was happy – finally and truly – and it was a wonderful feeling.

Alex took his time getting round to the driver's seat. Making sure Eve wasn't looking, he slipped his hand into his pocket and picked out the small velvet box that had been there for a while now. He didn't bother opening it as he knew what was in it; a diamond engagement ring that had taken a lot of extra hours at the hospital to pay for.

_Mrs. Eve Riley... Mrs. Eve Torres-Riley..._

Even if she didn't change her name, when it came time for him to propose, he wouldn't care. He just wanted to call her his wife like he'd wanted to do since the first time he met her in the supermarket. She'd been like a hurricane barging into his life back then; she still was now.

Alex would wait, this much he knew as he slipped into the driver's seat to drive them back onto Avidian Lane. Their relationship was fresh and it needed time to mature. But he would wait for that special moment to arrive and then he would grab it with both hands. He couldn't wait.

* * *

Layla was back in the game and she was loving it. As she walked the hallways of the Smackdown arena the crew were to perform in tonight, she hitched the championship belt up further on her shoulder and grinned to herself. It was a silly little butterfly belt she'd won not a week ago at the tapings, but it was hers all the same and it meant a lot to have it in her possession.

It was weird how life moved on so quickly. Three months ago she'd been in another world back on Avidian Lane, nervous about leaving the street with John and paving a new way for herself. But it had been so easy to slip back into the wrestler's lifestyle and she was having the time of her life now. A fan favourite on Smackdown and the Diva's Champion, it was all going well.

She missed Avidian Lane, of course she did. She missed the girls' and the conversations they would have; the midweek meet-up for margaritas, the gossip, and the fun they had together as a group. It was hard leaving all that behind. But she was _happy_ now. No longer in a suffocating marriage with William Regal and with the love of her life instead, what could be better?

The British woman had called Tiffany a few days ago and asked what was new. This was their weekly ritual now – a quick phone-call, Tiff never had long to talk now the twins had been born, to fill her in on what was happening. _"Logan and Emily are still together, Eve's still thrilled for them but she's giving them space... especially since her and Alex never leave her room... Ted and Maryse are wonderful, but you should know that because you see Ted a lot..."_

While it all still felt so familiar to her, Layla knew it was right to admit that it wasn't her world anymore. _This_ was. She had promised a visit back to Avidian Lane when she and the Smackdown crew had a break in the vacation season to have a little time off, and she definitely couldn't wait to head back to it all, but only for a few days. Now, a few days without wrestling and everything that came with it—the training sessions, the promotional tours, the visits around the world—was an unsettling thought.

She reached a familiar locker room moments later and, not bothering to knock, slipped inside the room. John looked adorable as he napped on the leather couch in his locker room. There were a few kicks about dating the wrestler of the moment; since everyone – especially the boss, Vince McMahon – had faith in him now, he got the best of it all. A locker room to himself... a standing ovation from the crowd every time he won a match... a hot Diva girlfriend to boot.

She woke him up with a kiss. When he gave her a dimpled smile, she responded appropriately. "How's the future World Heavyweight Champion?"

"A lot better now that you're here." He sat up to allow her a seat and rubbed away the sleep in his eyes. "That belt suits you."

"I think so too."

In just a matter of hours they would be going out there to tape this week's Smackdown, but for the time being they were happy enough to enjoy each other's presence. She took the nervous hand that was resting on his knee. Layla found it cute that after all this time, John was still anxious when it came to these shows. He had it all in the palm of his hand and yet he was still courteous, still grateful for being able to live his dream, and it warmed her heart.

She pressed her lips to his again for a longer kiss. Yes, this was exactly where she wanted to be – here with John in his locker room, anticipating tonight's show and looking forward to giving the crowd what they wanted to see. For a moment she wondered if something would go wrong – if things were a little too perfect – but she soon decided that if it was and if anything was to happen, they would deal with it together. Always together. That was the way it should and would be for a long time to come.

This was just the beginning.

* * *

_The Good Life_ is finally over! A massive thank you to everyone who reviewed this story – even those who simply favourited or alerted it. It means a lot :)

Just a quick couple of questions:

Favourite housewife?  
Favourite couple?

**_- Mikki._**


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